


Coming Home

by Xanthe



Series: BDSM Universe [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: AU, Angst, BDSM, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-09-11
Updated: 2006-09-11
Packaged: 2017-10-12 14:37:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 19
Words: 185,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/125909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xanthe/pseuds/Xanthe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colonel John Sheppard knew, from the moment he first met Dr Rodney McKay, that the man would be trouble.</p><p>This novel-length story is a prequel to General & Dr Sheppard telling the story of how the AU John and Rodney first got together. It doesn't matter whether you read Coming Home, or General & Dr Sheppard first, but the latter was written first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Trouble With a Capital T

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. "Coming Home" is set in the same storyverse as 'General & Dr Sheppard' (G&DS). You don't have to have read that in order to read and enjoy this.  
> 2\. This story is set entirely in a universe where bisexuality and BDSM sex are the norm. The BDSM depicted in this story is lifestyle BDSM – so it's more intense than the "silk scarves" variety. It is safe, sane and consensual and the characters enjoy their sexuality. If you are squicked by BDSM practices (such as spanking, bondage, biting, marking, and dominant/submissive power exchange) please don't read this story.  
> 3\. First and foremost this is a story about two people finding each other and learning how to be together. The BDSM is just a backdrop to that story.  
> 4\. Obviously as this is an AU where bisexuality and BDSM are the norm and people are comfortable with that, the characters speak and act differently to how they might speak and act in our universe. It was established in G&DS that the characters in this universe are much more open about their sexuality and more comfortable talking about it.  
> 5\. Some events from the actual show are depicted in this story but they don't necessarily happen in the same order, and they certainly don't happen in quite the same way as they happened on the show. In a few places I have used some actual lines of dialogue from 'Suspicion', Hide and Seek', and '38 Minutes'. This was done on purpose to emphasise the fact that this universe sometimes has echoes of our own.  
> 6\. Please don't tell me how and why this society won't work – I'm pretty sure I already know! If you like this kind of thing then it's an enjoyable fantasy. It's not intended to be a "how to" guide to the functioning of a BDSM society or as to how BDSM should be practised.  
> 7\. I'm not postulating that this society is any better or worse than our own – it's a fantasy construct with its own good and bad points.  
> 8\. I was working off my own canon here as some of the events that happen in 'Coming Home' are referred to in 'G&DS'. I tried to make everything fit appropriately, and hope I succeeded. Please note that although John is a General in G&DS, he starts out as a Colonel here.  
> 9\. I love getting friendly feedback so please leave some if you enjoy this story!  
> 10\. My apologies for the exceedingly long author's notes! There is a reason why I feel they are necessary.  
> 11\. Just to recap - if you dislike BDSM, or the way I write BDSM in particular, and/or you hated 'G&DS', then there's really no reason for you to read 'Coming Home'. If you enjoyed 'G&DS' and/or the way I write, then yay and hoorah and I hope you get a kick out of this one too.
> 
> Big Thanks To:  
> Bluespirit for constant encouragement, discussion and support, to say nothing of prompt and helpful beta. I honestly couldn't have written this without you, and most of the time I think I was actually writing it *for* you! Thanks so much.  
> Flyingnorth for enthusiasm and many a long discussion about this universe  
> Shrewreader for US beta.  
> Everyone who has been so encouraging (and patient!) about this story and all my flist for being so supportive whenever I mentioned it.

Colonel John Sheppard knew, from the moment he first met Dr Rodney McKay, that the man would be trouble. He wasn't sure how, or why, or even what form that trouble might take, but after nearly twenty years in the military, John had an instinct for trouble, and Rodney McKay was it - with a capital 'T'.

John was standing in Lady Elizabeth's office, going through the personnel files of the people they were taking with them on the expedition to Atlantis, when someone knocked on the door and then barged in without waiting for a reply. John stiffened; Lady Elizabeth was their leader, and, although he'd only known her for a few days, John had a lot of respect for her, so he didn't appreciate someone so rudely interrupting their private meeting - especially not the dishevelled man who brushed past him, shoving him to one side in his eagerness to get Elizabeth's attention.

"Is this the guy?" the newcomer demanded, glancing at John as if he was something he'd stepped in. "Isn't he a bit young to be in charge of the entire military side of this expedition? And what's with the hair? Oh never mind. You said he has the ATA gene? Because if so, you have to lend him to me. Carson is driving me insane and besides he nearly destroyed General O' Neill's transport with one of those drones, and you know if anything had happened to the General then Daniel O'Neill would have blamed *me* and then there's no chance I'd get anywhere near Atlantis - I'd be strung up in little pieces somewhere while he carved into me with a blunt knife. That man is the most possessive sub I've ever met."

John blinked, and glanced at Elizabeth, overwhelmed by the whirlwind of chatter.

"Ah, Colonel Sheppard - I should introduce you to our Head of Science - Dr Rodney McKay," Elizabeth said, with a wry grin. Sheppard took a second to process that *this* man, standing here, fingers clicking together impatiently, was the very eminent Rodney McKay, a scientist of outstanding brilliance - according to his personnel file at least. The man in front of him had long, unkempt, wavy hair, most of which was standing on end, as if he'd just spent several days running his hands through it - maybe he had. He had three days worth of stubble on his chin, and was wearing a faded blue expedition sweater and a pair of black pants with a coffee stain on the thigh. He looked sort of unkempt, as if he had long since stopped caring about his appearance and didn't expect anyone else to, either, and yet… John noticed a pair of bright, intelligent, if guarded, blue eyes, and a crooked mouth that looked as if it could spit out insults as soon as give you the time of day. Yes, the man was definitely Trouble.

"Dr McKay." John nodded, and held out his hand in greeting. McKay gave him a withering look.

"Yes, yes, time for that later - at the moment I need you - or rather I need that gene of yours. Come with me."

It was an order, and so peremptory that John found himself glancing at Elizabeth in shock, seeking her approval to end the meeting. She just gave a little grin and nodded her head in the direction of the door.

"I think Rodney's need of you is more pressing than mine," she murmured. "We can catch up on this later."

John gave her a polite nod, and then followed on after the scientist. It wasn't his usual style to notice such things, but he couldn't help but think, as he walked down the hallway after the other man, that Rodney McKay had a very nice ass.

"So you, apparently, have the ATA gene. It doesn't seem very helpful that one of the military boys should have such a strong manifestation of the gene when I'm the one who has to get this stuff working but I suppose we have to live with that. Carson is working on some new treatment that should resolve that issue for us but he's going at a maddeningly slow pace at the moment. I don't see what's so hard about it - it's not as if what he's doing is *real* science - but I suppose we have to accept that he knows what he's doing. By the way, do they *allow* hair cuts like that in the military? I thought you all had to have buzz cuts which is rarely a good look for anyone but I assumed it was some kind of weird bonding ritual you went through, and here's the chair so if you'd like to sit down please?"

"What?" They had come to a halt beside a large, ornate chair, situated in the centre of a little chamber, and Rodney's request had been so jumbled up in the rest of his stream of consciousness speech that John had to take a moment to process it.

"Chair. Sit," Rodney said slowly, as if talking to an imbecile, or a dog. John gazed at him steadily for a moment. He had been in the military for most of his adult life and he was more than used to taking orders, but not from scruffy scientists who seemed to be lacking a social skills gene. Rodney blinked, then looked at John as if seeing him for the first time. "If you wouldn't mind," he added, in a more polite tone of voice. John gave him a smile.

"Not yet," he said. "Firstly, I want you to tell me why you need me for this - and what's supposed to happen when I sit in that chair? I know I've got some kind of a genetic thing going on which means that I can activate Ancient technology but I don't want to make any mistakes, or do the wrong thing."

"Oh god. You're not afraid of it are you?" Rodney rolled his eyes. "It's bad enough dealing with Carson but at least he's a doctor and has an excuse for being uncomfortable around weaponry. I'd have thought you would be delighted to get the chance to be in control of this kind of destructive power."

"Really?" John raised an eyebrow. "I don't know what you know about the military, Dr McKay, but personally I prefer to have a thorough understanding of my weaponry *before* I use it."

"Really?" Rodney raised an eyebrow back at him. "As a matter of fact I know quite a bit about the military and I have to say that's not my experience of you military boys," and there was something about the way he said it, and the sour little bark of laughter that accompanied that comment, that made John frown. He wondered just what experiences the scientist was talking about.

"Explain it to me," John told him, softly but firmly, "and then I'll decide if I want to sit in it."

Rodney rocked back on his heels and gave John an assessing look, clearly realising that this wasn't someone he was going to be able to push around, and that he'd have to at least give some kind of explanation.

"You won't understand," he warned.

"Try me," John grinned. Rodney's eyes narrowed, and then, obviously deciding this was a challenge and he was happy to seize the gauntlet, he opened his mouth and launched into a detailed explanation of how the chair worked that was so technical John had to concentrate extremely hard to follow it. However, despite all his bluster, the scientist actually had a very good way of explaining things, and there was something rather amusing about his style of speech and his frequent snarky asides that made John smile. He came to an end of his explanation and then stood there, looking at John with an expectant smirk on his face, clearly expecting him to have been completely lost in all the technobabble.

"Thank you." John inclined his head towards the scientist. "So basically you're saying that these drones are telepathically controlled and when I sit down I have to be careful not to unleash another one?"

"Something like that," Rodney grunted sourly, obviously annoyed that John had grasped the central concepts so easily. "Especially if General O' Neill's helicopter is anywhere nearby. We really don't want any harm to come to him or…"

"Or his husband will come after you with a blunt knife. I remember," John grinned. "Sounds like the general has his hands full with that one."

"Yes, well, I really don't have the least interest in their particular dynamic," Rodney snapped, but John caught a flash of something in the scientist's blue eyes - something naked, something hurting, and that surprised him because this man was so outrageously rude and brusque that John would never have suspected him to have a sensitive side. There was clearly a whole lot more to him than met the eye. John put him on his mental list of people to watch on this expedition.

As it turned out, John didn't get a chance to watch anyone for the next few weeks as they were beset by a series of crises from the minute they walked through the gate into the Pegasus galaxy. The city welcomed him like a returning son, lighting up at his every step, only to start crashing all around them as the power ran out. John led an expedition offworld to find refuge and instead encountered a hostile alien species that captured half his team, forcing him to lead a rescue mission, and when they returned to Atlantis, the city activated her own failsafe device by rising from the depths of the ocean into the clean, clear air. So much happened in such a short space of time that John almost forgot about Dr Rodney McKay - until the incident with the jello.

"Colonel Sheppard - take a seat." Elizabeth gestured with her hand at one of the spare chairs in her office. She looked tired, and John wasn't surprised. They'd all been running on empty for the past few days. She was dressed, as usual, in the tight, dark red, leather uniform suit that showed off her slender frame to perfection. John had worried initially about how he'd get along with her. They were both tops, which wasn't a problem - although John doubted he'd have had a problem if the leader of the expedition had been a sub, either. He'd known some tops with terrible leadership qualities and some subs who truly excelled in that area and he knew sexual inclination wasn't any guide as to how well someone performed in their job. Luckily, Lady Elizabeth Weir had proved herself to be a thoughtful kind of leader, and although he didn't always agree with her more cautious decisions, he was glad that she was someone he could work with, and respect. John wondered for a moment whether she had taken a sub - he was sure that half the available subs in the city would jump at the chance because she exuded an air of capability and control, but he also knew that it wasn't always easy taking a sub from among people you worked with. Still, he didn't like the idea of her being lonely - a good leader needed an attentive partner, whether sub or top. John was feeling that lack in his own life right now, but he had nobody but himself to blame for that. He'd had some great relationships with a variety of willing and compliant submissives, but the truth was that he'd never been in love and he was beginning to despair of ever finding someone he connected with on anything other than a sexual level. He longed for the soul-deep connection he'd seen other couples enjoy - including his own parents - but somehow it had just never happened for him and he was beginning to wonder whether it ever would. Maybe he was asking for too much but he knew that he couldn't fake it. He'd bent many beautiful bodies, both male and female, to his will, enjoyed them for the taking, and loved doing it too, but he had reached an age where he wanted more than that, and as a result he'd been celibate for over a year now.

"What's going on?" John asked, seeing Elizabeth sigh heavily as she flicked through a file, before handing it to him.

"There was some kind of fracas in the mess hall yesterday," she told him. "One of your men - a Sergeant Bates? - sustained a cut to his forehead requiring four stitches."

"I heard about that. I assumed it was just some horsing around," John commented, surprised that this minor issue had made it to her desk. "I'll deal with it, my Lady," he said in a grim tone, getting to his feet. He'd been so busy dealing with one crisis after another since they arrived that he hadn't had a chance to establish a clear sense of discipline - and the men under his command were all new to him. This was his first major command, and he was aware that he'd landed it partly because of the ATA gene. Not that he hadn't proved himself in the field of combat, over and over again, and the military had commended him for his leadership abilities on several occasions, but this - out here, in another galaxy - this was a whole new ball game.

"It's not that simple," Elizabeth told him, with a strained smile. "I asked you here because Sergeant Bates has made a formal complaint against one of the civilian members of the expedition - and now I have to decide what to do about it."

"Oh." John sat back down again. Setting up a judiciary system and formal punishment room hadn't exactly been top of their list of priorities when arriving here, but it was clear that it had just been shunted up the list. "So what happened?" he asked, flicking through the complaint that was in the file that Elizabeth had given him.

"It's not easy to tell - I've only got Sergeant Bates's version of events and there were no witnesses save for a group of military personnel and…" Elizabeth gave another sigh, "Dr McKay."

"McKay?" John looked up in surprise.

"Yes. Bates alleges that McKay launched an unprovoked attack on him, and, uh…threw a plate of jello at him. The rim of the plate cut Bates's forehead - hence the need for stitches."

"My god - if I'd been wounded by a flying plate of jello I'd keep quiet about it, not launch a formal complaint!" John laughed. Elizabeth gave him a wry smile.

"Unfortunately, Sergeant Bates seems to be taking this very seriously. He's pressing for punitive charges against Dr McKay," she told him.

"What?" John shook his head. "Oh god. We could do without this after all we've been through these past few weeks," he muttered. "So what does McKay say about all this?"

"I don't know. I thought I'd speak to you first - find out a bit more about Sergeant Bates. The facts seem incontrovertible though," she said, her hazel eyes weary. "The other marines in the mess hall at the time all say that McKay threw the plate at Bates."

"So, what are you thinking of doing?" John asked her slowly, not liking where this was going but this wasn't his decision - it involved a civilian so it was hers.

"I'm not sure I have a choice," she replied. "I don't like it, but…we're out here all alone, John. We have to make it clear to people that the rules are the same here as they were on Earth. I can't go bending them for anyone - particularly for a member of my team. It'll look like favouritism. If we let this slide, then I'm worried that things will fall apart and anarchy will set in. I don't want anyone thinking I'm a weak leader - we both know that's fatal for morale and for discipline generally."

She sat back down at her desk and looked at him, her arms spread in a gesture of defeat.

"I'm unhappy about the idea of a senior member of the civilian team being publicly disciplined," John told her, shaking his head. "Dr McKay is a man who should command respect, and that'll be hard for him after something like this."

"I know, but what can I do?" Elizabeth gazed at him helplessly.

"Well, talk to McKay for a start - find out his version of events," John told her. "As for Bates - I can't give you much help there. I barely know him. I've read his file though, and he's a by the book kind of guy. Not very imaginative, but does his job to the letter - perhaps he takes that a bit too far at times, but he's solid."

"That's what I'd heard too," Elizabeth nodded. "All right - let's get Rodney in here and see what he has to say about this."

Rodney McKay burst into the room a few minutes later, looking as dishevelled as ever. John wondered whether the man ever shaved - or changed for that matter. He was wearing a coffee-stained blue tee shirt, and his eyes were red-rimmed, as if he'd been up all night working on something. His hair was as startling as ever - standing up in manic tufts all over his head.

"Well - what is it?" he demanded of Elizabeth. "I've just spent the past seventeen hours working on hooking up the damn naquada generators to take over the massive job of heating and lighting this city now that the ZPMs are all defunct, and could do without the interruption thank you very much."

John winced. He longed to get hold of Rodney McKay and shake some politeness into him, but Elizabeth seemed used to his manner and she just smiled at him, that strained smile of a leader under pressure.

"Rodney, sit down. We need to talk," she told him.

"Oh god. That's never a good phrase," Rodney sighed, sitting down in the seat beside John. "This isn't about that stupid incident in the mess hall yesterday, is it?"

"I'm afraid it is," Elizabeth told him. "Sergeant Bates has pressed charges against you."

"Oh WHAT?" Rodney looked outraged.

"He did need four stitches in his head, Dr McKay," John said. "So I think he has a right to press charges, don't you? Unless you're saying it was an accident?"

Rodney turned to look at him, those blue eyes of his flashing. "Well, you're military, so of course you'd take his side, Colonel," he snapped. "What's Bates saying, Elizabeth?"

"That you threw a plate at him."

Rodney stared at her for a moment.

"Is that true?" Elizabeth prompted.

A defeated look crept into Rodney's blue eyes and he shrugged. "Yes. I suppose it's true," he said softly.

"And?" Elizabeth waited but Rodney just shrugged again. "Come on, Rodney, work with me here. Were there any extenuating circumstances? Anything that makes this look less bad than it is?"

Rodney thought about it for a moment. "Things were said. It was heated. I didn't honestly intend to hit him with the plate but I admit I lost my temper and threw it in his general direction. Of course if I'd actually been *aiming* for his head it would undoubtedly have sailed over it by several inches because although I'm a genius my aim is crap - as is my ability at competitive sports. It was a freak accident - nine times out of ten I doubt the plate would have broken any skin but it sort of ricocheted off the wall and broke and the ragged edge caught him on the forehead. You're right though - he did need stitches and I accept full responsibility for that," he said quietly. Elizabeth sighed and sat back in her chair.

"What kinds of things were said, Dr McKay?" John asked, picking up on something the scientist had said. Rodney turned to look at him again, and this time those blue eyes of his were guarded, and he gazed at John with a distrustful expression.

"It doesn't matter. I clearly behaved…inappropriately. I'll apologise to the sergeant."

"It's gone beyond that, Rodney," Elizabeth told him. "He's asked me to take punitive action."

Rodney thought about that for a moment and John gazed at him, fascinated by the play of emotions that flitted across the other man's expressive face, from dismay to humiliation to, finally, resignation. His jaw tightened into a jutting display of tense bravado and he got up. "Well, that's your decision, Elizabeth," he said softly. "Now, if that's all I have work to do. Whether the military boys like it or not, I'm the one who keeps the lights and heat on around here."

"Rodney!" Elizabeth called, and he paused by the door, his back stiff. "You do know what I'm talking about here, don't you?" she said. "This will be a public disciplinary. I don't want that any more than you do and I don't think it sets a good example if a senior member of the expedition is in this situation - do you?"

John watched the tense play of muscles in the other man's shoulders as he stood, his hand on the door. Finally, Rodney turned.

"No," he said. "I don't think it's a good idea for any number of reasons, not least of them being my concern about my own ass, but I also know that if you have to throw me to the wolves to keep this base running efficiently then you will, and I do understand that. I do!" he repeated fiercely, as she opened her mouth to protest. "I'm not going to put you in an awkward position, Elizabeth. Do what the hell you want. You will anyway." And with that, he left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Elizabeth turned to John, her arms open in a gesture of despair again.

"There's no helping some people," John told her, with a shrug. "Especially if they won't help themselves."

"You think I should authorise the punishment?" she said, stroking her neck anxiously, as she always did when she was uncertain.

"I don't think you have much choice. The guy admitted he threw the plate and he wouldn't give us any extenuating circumstances - there's not much else to be done, is there?" John said, giving her a sympathetic smile. Privately, he couldn't help thinking that Rodney McKay was such an obnoxious piece of work that it would do the man good to have some humility drummed into him.

"All right. You'd better get a punishment room set up. I'm keeping this light though - enough to satisfy Bates, but no more," Elizabeth said grimly.

"Agreed." John nodded. He walked out of the meeting with a heavy heart; this was not a good beginning to their time on Atlantis.

John went back to his office and studied his personnel files, while deciding what to do next. Bates was part of a close knit group of marines who had been working with the expedition team for months before John had even come onboard. He was deputy head of security on Atlantis, reporting in to John's second in command, Major Lorne, and he took his job very seriously, but there had never had any complaints about the man.

John decided to speak to Major Lorne first. He didn't know the major very well, but he liked and respected what he'd seen of him thus far - and, more importantly, Lorne knew these men, having worked with them for the past year or so. Lorne didn't tell him any more than John knew already though - that Bates was solid, and, although the sergeant was a fairly humourless individual, with a vindictive streak, Lorne couldn't imagine him making this whole thing up.

With a sigh, John dismissed Lorne and made a call on his radio asking Sergeant Bates to come and see him.

"You've made a complaint about Dr McKay," John told him, gazing at the man's head - he had a dressing over his left eye, and a slight bruise was visible around the edges.

"Yes, sir." Bates nodded.

"Care to tell me what happened?"

"He came into the mess hall, sir, and he was angry because we'd eaten all the blue jello," Bates told him. John tried not to laugh out loud - that sounded very like Rodney McKay. "I pointed out to him that if he wanted the good stuff he should have got there earlier so he'd just have to settle for the green. He said he'd been working all night just to keep the place running and he expected a little gratitude. I told him we were all doing our jobs…and that was when he threw the jello at me, sir," Bates told him.

John sighed. This all sounded entirely plausible. "Was it necessary to make a formal complaint though, Sergeant?" he asked. "We all have to live together after all."

"I'm going to be permanently scarred because of one man's petulance, so yes, sir!" Bates growled. "I think it was necessary."

"Could I talk you out of it?" John asked, leaning back in his chair, feeling tense about even suggesting it because this was Bates's prerogative, and he didn't want the other man to think he was trying to pull rank on him over this.

"No, sir! I don't think you can," Bates told him firmly.

John sighed. "Very well. You can go," he said. He called in a couple of the other men who'd been witnesses, but they all said the exact same thing, so John had to conclude, reluctantly, that there was nothing further to be done and that Dr McKay would just have to take his licks.

The disciplinary was scheduled to take place the following day at ten a.m. John didn't usually attend public disciplinaries - these things were best dealt with privately, in his view - but Rodney didn't have a top to speak for him and refused to speak for himself. John didn't even know if the man was a sub or a top – but his top radar picked up on something about the scientist which made him suspect that McKay was more likely sub than top. Apart from anything else, the incident with the jello had taken place in public, and by law Bates was therefore entitled to request public redress. John attended the disciplinary purely out of duty; this had taken place on his watch and some of his men had been involved. He also wanted to get a feel for the atmosphere on the base - to see if people would feel justice had been done, or whether a more ugly mood was brewing.

John entered the punishment room and then paused in surprise - the place was packed to the rafters so he guessed that he wasn't the only one Rodney had irritated with his brusque manner and snappy comments. As he took his seat and glanced around, he realised the majority of the people present were his own men - there were a few people from the civilian side of the expedition, but, he noted thoughtfully, none of Rodney's own team was present. He was glad about that - it wouldn't be easy for the man to maintain his authority after this, and he was still their Head of Science after all.

Elizabeth was there, sitting at the back, her expression subdued. John gave her a half salute as he went in, and she acknowledged him with a little nod. He wasn't surprised that she wasn't handing out the punishment herself. As their leader it was her prerogative but it was more usual to delegate that kind of task to a trusted member of staff. He *was* surprised to see that she'd chosen Peter Grodin for that job though - Grodin was on Rodney's staff, under the Head of Science's direct command, and John wasn't sure it was a good idea for him to be the one doing this, but he guessed that Elizabeth had a pretty small pool of people to choose from on a base this size. Grodin stood in the centre of the room, examining the equipment they'd brought with them, which they hadn't had to use to date. It was standard judicial stuff - a sturdy frame, and a case of implements. Grodin took out a light paddle and swung it through the air a couple of times, to the obvious delight of some of the military personnel in the front couple of rows.

On the dot of ten a.m. Rodney McKay appeared in the doorway. He looked as tired as he had done the previous day - although John suspected this was more because he'd spent another night working on the naquada generators than because he'd been up all night worrying about the disciplinary. The scientist paused in the doorway, and then blinked, several times, as he took in the crowd in the room. John felt a pang of sympathy for the man, despite himself. It couldn't be easy to realise that all these people had come here to witness him being punished - or that they would take pleasure in it. Rodney's eyes were glinting, and he gave them all a dangerous, baleful glare as he stepped into the room, daring anybody to say anything, his jaw pushed out to the maximum, in a full tilt of defence. None of this had much effect on the marines in the front couple of rows though - they laughed out loud and gave some ribald catcalls. John cleared his throat - loudly - and the jeering subsided.

Rodney stepped over to Peter Grodin and stopped for a moment to say a few words to him. John couldn't hear what was said but Peter managed a forced smile and he nodded at whatever it was Rodney was saying to him. Then Grodin said something in return, and John guessed he was reading Rodney his rights, going through the usual disciplinary preamble. John wondered if the scientist had ever been publicly punished before. Plenty of people managed to go a lifetime without getting into any kind of judicial trouble, although somehow John doubted that Rodney was one of them. During his teenage years, John had earned himself a couple of public disciplinaries. They had been carried out by a bored cop in the small public punishment arena back in his hometown in front of a couple of equally bored witnesses and his own disappointed and disapproving parents. That had been bad enough, so he couldn't imagine how unpleasant it must be to be in Rodney McKay's shoes right now.

Grodin finished whatever it was he was saying to Rodney and then he gestured to the punishment frame. Rodney gazed at it with distaste, and then, with a mulish look on his face, he went over to it and loosened his belt and fly, before sliding his pants and boxers down his thighs until they were resting just beneath his buttocks. Then he leaned forward and took hold of the handles on either side of the frame, so that he was bent over, his ass jutting out.

The punishment frame was deliberately designed for this purpose. It was a large, curved piece of equipment with a padded bench. The only part of the miscreant's body visible from the front was his face and shoulders - it didn't form part of the punishment that any more flesh than that was on public display, although from some angles a little bit more was certainly visible. The only one who got to see any naked flesh full on was the person performing the punishment, and Grodin stepped up, slapping the paddle lightly against his own hand. John glanced at his men, who were watching with rather more rapt attention than he liked. He caught sight of Bates, and noticed the smugly satisfied expression on the sergeant's face. John didn't like the look Bates was giving Rodney, and he glanced back at the scientist. Rodney gazed out at the audience, those blue eyes of his hiding absolutely nothing of the sheer humiliation he was feeling right now, and then he did something that John would never be able to get out of his head, for as long as he lived. It wasn't much - but there was something about it that made John sit up and really notice this man for the first time. Rodney turned his head, and his eyes made the briefest of contact with John's before he rested his face sideways on the punishment frame. His face was now angled, unintentionally, in John's direction and John watched as Rodney slowly closed his eyes and then opened them again, and then he lay there, and there was an expression in his eyes of such sad acceptance that John's breath caught in his throat. Suddenly this had gone beyond duty for John, beyond his faintly bored witnessing of an unpleasant man getting his due. The expression in Rodney's eyes seemed to say, "Right. Yes. Of course. Here we go again." And rather than looking like the brusque, sarcastic scientist John thought he knew, now he resembled nothing so much as a lost, forlorn puppy, friendless and without a home. That realisation took John totally by surprise and now his interest in the proceedings was no longer dispassionate. Now it felt personal.

The moment passed and Grodin raised the paddle and brought it down firmly on McKay's ass. John's gaze never left the scientist's face, and Rodney didn't so much as make a sound. His expression never faltered, either - there was no acknowledgement of the swat at all, except in those sad blue eyes. John felt his hands clenching into fists. This was wrong. He wasn't sure why, or how, just that it was. This shouldn't be happening like this - he didn't want to witness this event. He had seen plenty of people punished before - hell, in his job he'd had to discipline countless unruly men himself over the years, and he'd never had a problem with it, but this…THIS…this was wrong. Not because Rodney didn't deserve it, because John was by no means convinced on that score, but because John felt so profoundly uncomfortable that so many other people were witnessing it. To be honest, he couldn't have articulated what his emotions were, just that it angered him, and he felt a primal instinct rising inside him, wild and furious. That instinct warred with something else, something infinitely more tender and protective, and the two of them combined to make his fists clench and unclench convulsively, and his breath hitch in his throat. Nobody should be touching Rodney like this, damnit, because…. He had no end to that sentence - he just knew that the scene in front of him outraged him beyond belief.

Grodin raised the paddle again and delivered another swat, and again there was no reaction from Rodney, save for a little spark of distress in those blue eyes. John couldn't take his eyes off the other man's face. His attention was totally rapt, and he felt as if he was hardly breathing. Rodney's expression was dead, and his body was loose and unresisting, as he took the eight licks Elizabeth had ordered. He didn't once cry out, or say anything. He barely took any notice of the crowd, as if they weren't there, and John sensed their mood change. In the beginning they'd come here looking to enjoy the arrogant scientist get his comeuppance, but, in the face of Rodney's innate dignity and sad sense of calm, there was nothing to enjoy. It became just another punishment session, and they'd all seen or endured enough of them to know how it went. The punishment came to an end, and Grodin went over to Rodney and murmured something into his ear. He didn't touch Rodney - it wasn't protocol - even though John knew, as a top, how hard it must be not to give some kind of reassuring comfort after this kind of event. But Grodin wasn't Rodney's top and didn't have the right to touch him - John doubted that Rodney would have welcomed any such patronising displays of concern in any case. The scientist pushed himself away from the frame, pulled up his pants, fastened his belt, said a couple of words to Grodin, and then left the room, without once looking at the assembled crowd.

John wasn't sure what he was doing but somehow he found himself getting to his feet and running out of the room after the scientist. He was vaguely aware of the marines getting up and starting to talk and laugh amongst themselves behind him, but he ignored them. He chased up the hallway and found Rodney waiting by the transport at the far end. Having run after him, John suddenly found that he had nothing to say, and he hesitated by the transport, gazing at Rodney's flushed face.

"Come to gloat, Colonel?" Rodney asked, in a tight little voice. "Your men must be pleased - they always enjoy it when I'm the floorshow."

John stared at him, shocked by the bitterness in Rodney's voice, and by his misunderstanding of John's intentions. "Not here to gloat, no," John told him, in a quiet voice. "I thought you took that with amazing dignity actually."

A look of confusion flooded into Rodney's eyes and he rocked back on his heels, still glaring at the colonel.

"Dignity. Right. Okay." He shook his head, as if amused by some private joke.

The door to the transport opened and Rodney stepped inside.

"Wait!" John said, grabbing hold of Rodney's arm. "You should go and see Dr Beckett," John told him. Rodney stared coolly at the hand John had on his arm.

"Take your hand off me, Colonel, or I'll bring charges of my own," he hissed. John let him go, as if stung.

"I didn't mean…" he began. "I'm just saying - those swats were hard - you should see Beckett."

"It was only eight swats. I'm sure I'll live. Besides, I have work to do," Rodney growled at him and then he thumped his hand on the door panel and it closed, shutting John out.

John stood there for a moment. Something about this had been wrong, very wrong, and he realised, with a start, what it was. It was him. He hadn't done enough to investigate this situation. Oh, sure, he'd had a word with Bates, and some of the other marines, but he hadn't done any further digging - he'd just taken the sergeant's words at face value. There was something else going on here, something that had to explain the ugly jeering he'd witnessed in the punishment room when Rodney had made his entrance.

John wasn't sure where to start digging, but he found himself going down to the infirmary. Rodney wasn't there, although John hadn't expected him to be - the scientist had been very clear on that topic. Dr Beckett was alone down there, gazing at something under a microscope. John paused, and then went over to him. He'd met the doctor a few times and he liked the jovial Scotsman with the clear blue eyes and sympathetic bedside manner. Carson was a no-nonsense kind of man, and John was fairly sure he topped, judging by how well he managed to deal with some of the more difficult patients in his infirmary, but he was also essentially kind-hearted and John liked that about him.

"Hey, Doc. What's going on?" John asked, perching on the side of Carson's desk. The doctor looked up, and gave him a brief, tight smile.

"You tell me," he said. "I heard there was some action in the bear pit this morning. I suppose you've just come from there?"

John frowned. "You're not in favour of public disciplinaries I take it?" he asked.

Carson shrugged. "I accept that sometimes they're necessary," he said. "But sometimes they just seem like entertainment for the masses, and I for one don't get off on public humiliation."

"Well, I'm with you on that one," John told him, shaking his head. "That's why I'm here. You've known Rodney McKay for longer than anyone else. What's he like?"

"Brilliant, obnoxious, irascible, irritating, arrogant, condescending, stubborn and completely and utterly without guile. Why?" Carson asked.

"I'm not sure," John mused. "Do you think he threw that plate at Bates the other day?"

"Without question," Carson grinned. "He admitted it, didn't he?"

"Yes he did…but he didn't say why." John chewed on his lip thoughtfully. "Carson - what's Rodney's story? I gather he doesn't have a top's protection right now – I mean, I'm assuming he's a sub? I get that vibe off him."

Carson sat back in his chair and gazed at John, those blue eyes of his piercing right through him.

"Are you asking because you think it'll throw some light on your investigation, or because you have a personal interest in him?" he asked cautiously.

"Does it matter?" John threw back.

"Aye, it matters," the doctor told him firmly. "I'll not have anyone screwing around with Rodney. He's been through enough. So if you were looking for a sub to play with, then I'd advise you to take it easy and go slow. He'll likely bite your hand off as soon as kiss it though, so he'd be a challenge if that's where your interest lies."

"He is a sub then?" John put his head on one side. Carson sighed.

"Aye, he is. I think he struggled to come to that conclusion, but he's comfortable enough with it now."

"What did you mean by him having gone through enough?" John asked carefully, unsure why he felt such a sense of relief at finding out for sure that Rodney was a sub. Carson sighed again.

"Colonel, I haven't known you very long but you strike me as a good man, so I'll tell you, but please keep this confidential," Carson requested. John nodded. "Okay then…Rodney is…well, you have to get to know him to understand him, but he's a good man. He's about the best friend I have out here, and he'd do anything for you - he just doesn't want you to know that. He hides behind all that bluster and sarcasm but he'd go to the wall for you if you let him. I meant what I said just now - he IS obnoxious and arrogant, and he says the most terrible things, but he's also kind, funny and…well, sort of lovable underneath it all, if he lets you get close enough to see it."

"Did you…did you ever play with him?" John asked, wondering why he felt a tight knot in the pit of his stomach as he asked that question. Carson shook his head.

"We got close to it one night when we were both drunk, but it wouldn't have been right. He's a handful and I like a quieter life. I'm not a heavy top, either - he's someone who needs taking down and I prefer my subs respectful and worshipful rather than mouthy and mixed up."

"And the bit about him having gone through something?" John wanted to know.

"His parents were a nightmare. They screwed him up good and proper and the poor lad never had much by way of affection there. They died in a car crash when he was just eighteen. He was a graduate student at MIT by then but he came home to look after his little sister and continued his studies at the University of Toronto. He fell out with his sister a few years back, and he hasn't spoken to her since then which cuts him up deep inside because he loves her to bits although he'd never tell you so. I used to tell him to write to her but he's a stubborn so and so and he wouldn't. His argument with Jeannie upset him more than he cares to admit and he was all at sea for awhile and fell into some bad relationships. I know there was a woman who was quite abusive towards him, and some chap he ran rings around until the poor bastard gave up and threw him out. Rodney took that quite hard, although I didn't blame the man - Rodney is a handful, as I said. Then there were a series of one night stands that went really badly. Rodney is a genius - and he doesn't always understand how other people think or feel. He's an odd mixture of superiority complex combined with a genuine lack of understanding as to why anyone would love him, and that makes it hard getting through to him sometimes. He's a good man, Colonel, but he's been given a hard time by some of the people on this base."

"Who - and why?" John leaned forward, sensing he was about to learn something here.

Carson sighed. "Rodney went out with one of the military lads for a couple of weeks a few months or so ago but it ended badly. The man in question wasn't the brightest button in the box and Rodney needs to be with someone smart. And you know Rodney - he doesn't mince his words so his lover was in no doubt at all about what Rodney thought of his intelligence. As a result, he spread some rumours about Rodney that I'm certain aren't true. He said that Rodney was a crap submissive, that he wasn't worth playing with, and that people shouldn't touch him with a bargepole. Rodney was genuinely bewildered by all this, I think. He might be a challenging sub but he does like to be the best at what he does so I'm sure he's eager to please and tries his hardest. A lot of people miss that about Rodney." Carson sat back in his chair and gazed at John. "Are you sure you want to hear the rest of this?" he asked.

"Very sure," John said firmly.

"It doesn't reflect well on your men."

"Then I'm even more sure," John growled.

"Okay then." Carson nodded, leaning forward as he continued. "The military lads had it in for him from then onwards - they never wasted an opportunity to taunt him about his lack of sexual prowess, or anything else that they thought would needle him. Sometimes it got really ugly - and that's just the stuff I overheard. I imagine it was much worse when there were no witnesses. Rodney took it all with rather more patience than I'd have expected. He had a tough time at school - he was too bright to fit in, and he got bullied quite a bit. He couldn't tell his parents about the bullying because they showed so little interest in him so I gather that he led a rather lonely existence. This thing with the military lads - I think it's almost what he's used to, like what happened to him back in high school, and that's why he put up with it. I wasn't surprised it finally spilled over though - Rodney's put up with a lot over the past year or so, and that particular plate of jello was a very long time in coming."

Carson sat back again and surveyed John intently. "So that's your story. Do with it what you will, but, if you're the kind of man I think you are, you'll do the right thing."

John gazed at him, feeling somewhat winded, and sickened to his stomach by what had happened that morning. That hadn't been justice - that had just been more bullying, and it had to stop. Nobody got away with behaving like that on his watch.

"Why didn't Rodney say anything about all this when Elizabeth called him in to defend himself?" he demanded.

"Well, I can't say for sure but I'm guessing it was because you were there," Carson pointed out. "You're military after all, and after what he's been through Rodney doesn't have a great deal of trust left in the military. I presume he just thought you'd take their side. Also - it's not exactly an easy thing to talk about, and the man has his pride. He'd find it hard to admit to the two highest ranking tops on this expedition that there are rumours circulating that he's a bad sub."

"Damnit!" John growled, leaning back and thumping his fist on Carson's desk, angry with himself for not knowing any of this and for unwittingly putting Rodney is such a difficult position. "This man Rodney was seeing - is he on the base?" he asked, wondering why that spark of jealousy was flaring in his belly again, white hot.

"No. He didn't make the grade and was reassigned before we left - but Bates was his best friend," Carson told him pointedly. "I suspect Bates also thinks Rodney is the reason why his friend wasn't part of this expedition but that's all bollocks, if you'll excuse my Scottish, because Rodney didn't have any say in the selection of the military personnel. It wasn't a relationship he had with this man though - just a couple of nights as I understand it. Rodney doesn't trust anyone enough to have a relationship with them. He keeps people at bay."

"I'd noticed," John chuckled. "Okay. Thank you, Carson. You've been very helpful."

"I do my best." Carson flashed him a broad smile. "It's over to you now, Colonel!"

 

John left the infirmary and made his way back to his office, thinking this through. He was absolutely furious that any of the men on his team had behaved in this way, and decided that they needed to understand the kind of behaviour their commanding officer expected of them. John wasn't a showy man, but he did have certain very firm ideas, and he wasn't afraid of following through on them. He didn't think for a moment that all the men under his command were the same as Bates and his friends, but it was up to him to make it clear to all of them the kind of operation he would be running on Atlantis. In his experience people needed to know where they stood, and John wanted to leave them in no doubt on that score. This might be his first major command, but John had been a leader all his life, and he subscribed to the notion that people took their lead from those in charge, so it was time to let his men know exactly what kind of a man he was. He summoned Major Lorne and asked him to assemble his entire military staff in the punishment room in an hour's time.

"The punishment room, sir?" Lorne raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Yes - the practice room is too small for what I have in mind," John told him, "and the chairs are already laid out in the punishment room so it'll work fine. Get it cleared of the frame and implements - they can be put in the adjacent storage room."

Lorne nodded, and then left, clearly mystified as to John's intentions. John smiled - he liked Lorne but he wasn't sure he could trust him yet, so he'd let the major find out what was going on in an hour's time, like everyone else.

Forty-five minutes later, John collected the equipment he needed from the practice room and carried it along to the punishment room, and then he waited for his men to arrive. He was dressed in practice clothes, fully prepared for what was going to happen next. When the marines started filing through the door, John smiled at them pleasantly, and greeted each man by name, just to make it clear to them that he wasn't some remote commanding officer who would take no interest in them, and also so that they knew they wouldn't be able to hide behind their anonymity. He knew exactly who they were and if they ever screwed up then he'd know who to ream out too.

John waited until they were all seated, and then surveyed them.

"We've had a busy few weeks," he told them. "What with the city shutting down and the wraith attacks. I've had a chance to see you guys in action and I have to tell you that I'm impressed. You're a good team - the best - and I feel privileged to know I've got you guys watching my back when we go out there."

He paused for a moment, and surveyed the room, taking in their faces. That was the softener; the carrot. Now it was time for the stick - literally.

"You guys don't know me very well and I know you've been wondering why the hell an Air Force colonel has been brought in above your own chain of command to run this operation. And the answer to that is - that it's none of your goddamn business." John smiled sweetly, and a little chuckle went around the room. "Now, like I said, you don't know me very well - that's why I've ordered you here, to do a little…military bonding." John smiled again and the men all looked at each other uncertainly, clearly wondering what the hell that meant.

"Okay. Let me lay it on the line. We're out here, in this galaxy, a long way from home, all alone, and the only way we're going to survive is if we pull together and all do things one way - and that way, ladies and gentlemen, is my way. There's no room for any dissent. I'm in charge here, and what I say goes. I'm not an unreasonable man, but I do have some very firm ideas on how the people under my command conduct themselves, and, if any of my special rules are broken, I will happily order you into this room and administer military discipline myself - and I'm sure Major Lorne will also be happy to oblige if I'm unavailable."

John turned, giving that statement a few minutes to sink in, and he went over to the table where he had laid out two sets of fighting batons which had been given to them by the Athosian people in gratitude for helping save them from the Wraith attack on their homeworld, and giving them sanctuary on Atlantis. He picked up one set of the batons.

"I'm not talking about military rules here," he said, as he turned back. "I'm talking about my own personal rules. What can I say? I'm quirky that way." He gave them another little grin, but he noticed they were starting to look a little uneasy, and he could see that they were wondering if they were stuck out here, in the middle of nowhere, with a psychotic commanding officer and nobody above him in the chain of command to appeal to. John did nothing to disabuse them of that notion - he wanted to keep them on edge.

"Now, you've already seen me in action, and I've seen some of you in action too, but I'd like to put a few of you through your paces." John smiled again. "So…I want some volunteers." Nobody ever volunteered in the military so John didn't wait for anyone to step forward. "You, you, you, you, you and you," he said, singling out Bates and the five other men who had been witnesses in the mess hall a few days previously. All of them, as far as John was concerned, were implicated in what had happened with Rodney McKay. "Come here." The men got up, glancing at each other nervously.

John threw a pair of batons at Bates, and then went and got a pair for himself. He was still a relative novice at using these, but he'd had a couple of weeks' tuition from the Athosian woman, Teyla, and that was a couple of weeks more than any of these men had been given so he was confident that he easily outclassed them.

"These," John said, holding up the batons, "are probably unfamiliar weapons to most of you. However, working with them speeds up your reflexes and makes you extremely agile, so you could all benefit from some workout sessions with them. If you want any guidance then ask Teyla. One of the benefits of being in another galaxy is that there are a hell of a lot of new things to be learned…and I'm about to give you your first lesson. Sergeant Bates…come at me please."

Bates hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward, raising his sticks. He narrowed his eyes as he approached, trying to size up the colonel, and then he charged forward, hard, batons flailing. John easily sidestepped him, thwacked the sergeant's hand with one of his own batons, effectively disarming him, and then he swung his other baton low, caught Bates a stinging blow on the legs, tripping him, and, as he fell, he delivered a satisfying swat to Bates's rump with his other stick. Bates lay there, panting and clutching his leg. John gave him a sweet smile and then turned back to his audience.

"Rule number one," John said. "I hate bullying. This, ladies and gentlemen, is a civilian expedition, not a military one. I answer to the head of the civilian team, Lady Weir, and we are mainly here just to protect their collective asses. That's our purpose. They aren't military, and if they ever complain that any of my men have tried to intimidate them, physically or verbally, I will personally take great delight in tanning your hides. Next please."

John threw Bates's batons at the next marine, a big, muscular, blond lad, and he swallowed convulsively and looked around uncertainly. "Now, Corporal!" John snapped and the corporal lumbered forward. John disarmed him with the same ease as he had Bates, and the big corporal went down with a satisfying thump - John made sure to thwack him hard on the backside on his way down.

"Rule number two: most of the guys around here will be smarter than you," John told his rapt audience. "That's just a fact of life. It's nothing personal - get used to it. Now, very smart people don't always act in ways that are easy for the rest of us to understand. That's fine. If you don't understand what one of the scientists wants, or if you think they're placing themselves or the rest of us in danger, then you can come to me, and I'll handle it. Otherwise - remember rule number one. This is their expedition and we're here to protect them, not obstruct them. Next please."

John handed the big corporal's batons to a thin, dark-haired man and beckoned him forwards.

"On the subject of how smart some of these people are - it might interest you to know what Dr Rodney McKay's qualifications are, for example." John grinned, and the dark-haired marine did a fancy little dance and then tried to side-step him. John despatched him without breaking sweat, delivering a hard swat on the man's ass as he went down, just as he'd done with the two previous men. "Dr McKay is Head of Science on this expedition and therefore I think you can assume he's pretty smart. In fact, Dr Beckett described him to me as a genius. "Did you know he graduated from MIT summa cum laude with a double major in math and physics when he was only seventeen?" John gazed at his audience dispassionately, recalling the facts he'd memorised from McKay's file. "Since then he's earned advanced degrees in mechanical engineering, applied mathematics, astronomy and astrophysics from the University of Toronto and Cal Tech. He also happens to be extremely important to this expedition as he's the only one who fully understands how the Ancient technology works."

John gave them a few seconds to digest that information, because he wanted them to be in no doubt at all on the subject of Dr McKay. There wasn't a whole lot he could do for the Head of science to make up for what he'd endured that morning, but he could do *this*, if nothing else. Then he gestured to the next marine in line to come forwards.

"Rule number three: integrity. We might be a long way from home, but I still expect you to behave with the same standards of behaviour and integrity that I'd demand from you on Earth."

John feinted to the right, then took out his new opponent with a single flick of his wrist to the left. The man landed in a heap on the floor and John swatted him on his ass on his way down.

"Rule number four: obey me, take your lead from me, try and impress me - and we'll get along just fine." John gave another sweet smile as he called forth the next marine.

"Rule number five: I'm in charge. That's it. I'm your bottom line, ladies and gentlemen. Piss me off and by god you'll know it."

John saw off the remaining marines in lightning quick time, as if to illustrate that point, and then threw the batons back at Bates once more.

"Again, sir?" Bates asked, looking seriously pissed off.

"Oh yes, Sergeant Bates. Seven more times to be precise," John told him with another of those bright smiles. Bates glowered at him but John was sure that the symbolism of the number wasn't lost on him. John took on each of those six marines another seven times, and on each occasion they landed in a heap on the floor with the sting of his baton smarting on their asses, legs, or hands. When he'd finally finished with his object lesson, they were all looking dejected and decidedly the worse for wear. His audience was also looking subdued, clearly processing the knowledge that their new commander might not be psychotic, but he sure as hell was a hard ass. John didn't think there was any one of them who didn't know what the session with the batons had been about, and that was all to the good as far as he was concerned. When he'd finished wiping the floor with Bates and his cronies, John swung his batons up, and turned back to his audience.

"Well, this has been great, ladies and gentlemen. I've appreciated having the chance for you to get to know me a little bit better. Did anyone have any questions?"

Bates raised his hand, and John's eyes flickered over him in cool distaste.

"Good," he said, ignoring the man. "Now, if any one of you feels that maybe he's lost my good opinion, I would like you to know that I'm sure you can win it back, with lots of hard work and application and by following those rules of mine. That's all." And so saying, he swept out of the room.


	2. Propositions

John returned to his room later that evening still feeling pretty pleased with himself. This had been the first real test of his command, and he thought he'd handled it well. He certainly felt he'd nipped the situation in the bud. He was running a little late, and wanted to take a shower and change into his off-duty clothes and then head out to the mess hall…so he was brought up short to find the blond corporal he'd trounced that morning standing outside his door.

"Corporal Hicks?" John frowned. "Is there a problem?"

"No, sir. I just wanted a word with you," the corporal said, a slight flush rising to his pale skin.

"I've been in my office all afternoon - you only had to knock. I am always available to talk to my men," John told him firmly.

"I know that, sir, but what I had to say…well, it's kind of personal, so I thought I'd wait until you were off duty," Hicks said, that flush deepening. John gazed at him searchingly, and then sighed.

"Okay. You'd better come in." He opened the door to his room. "I'm sure whatever you had to say you could have said in my office," he said, as he strode into the room. "But now you're here I hope it'll be quick because…." He turned, and then stopped dead in his tracks, because the corporal had followed him into the room and was now kneeling in a gracefully submissive pose by the bed, face down, legs apart, back straight. "Corporal?" John asked gently. The corporal remained gazing at the floor. John sighed. "Permission to speak, submissive," he said finally, realising he wasn't going to get anything out of the young man unless he played the top. The corporal relaxed and raised his head.

"I came here to offer myself to you, sir," he said, in a soft voice, gazing at John with naked sexual longing. "I asked around, and people said you don't have a submissive right now. A man like you shouldn't be alone, sir. I'm a good sub - well trained and obedient. I'll do anything you want, sir, if you'll have me."

John gazed at the man speculatively for a moment. He couldn't deny that it was an attractive proposition. Hicks was young, handsome, and clearly a very prettily trained sub. John had no doubt at all that the kid's soft lips would feel good wrapped around his cock, and he paused for a moment to consider how that muscular body would look, laid out naked for his attention. The corporal's pale skin would probably pink up nicely under his hand, and John could imagine how all those hard muscles would feel tensing beneath his touch as he entered the young man from behind and fucked him. It *was* tempting - he'd gone a year without sex and he was out here, in the middle of a strange galaxy, which made you long to reach out for human contact to calm your fears over the unknown terrors that you were facing on an almost daily basis…and yet…John sighed. This wasn't what he wanted. This boy might be an enjoyable distraction, but he was too young and too dumb to offer him anything more than a good lay, and John wanted more than that, damnit! He knew how this would pan out, because he'd been there any number of times before, and he was bored with the routine of it.

"I'm sorry, Corporal," he said softly, letting the boy down gently, "but I'm afraid I'm not looking for a sub right now."

A look of surprise, mingled with dismay, flashed through the young man's eyes - he obviously knew he was attractive, and was upset that John was turning him down, but he also really wanted this. John realised that his little display in the punishment room earlier might have had some unforeseen consequences - it was no wonder a submissive as young and impressionable as this had taken something other than what he'd intended from that lesson he'd handed out earlier.

"I'm very good, sir," the corporal told him, his naivety removing any trace of arrogance from the statement.

"I'm sure you are. You're clearly a beautiful and eager to please submissive," John praised him gently. "This is nothing personal, Corporal, but I have a little rule about not getting involved with anyone under my command." That was a lie - it was pretty commonplace for a military top to take a submissive (or several) from the men under his command. That was part and parcel of military life and nobody thought anything of it. The corporal was clearly surprised as well, because he looked up sharply.

"It doesn't have to mean anything, sir!" he said. "I wouldn't ask for any special privileges. I just want to be your boy. Nobody even has to know."

John smiled at him. The kid really was very sweet - but ultimately John knew just how unsatisfying such an arrangement would be. He'd learned that lesson over and over again during his life, and he was resolved to pass up the short term temptation in favour of the possibility of a more fulfilling kind of love.

"I'm sorry, Hicks, but that's not the way I work," he said. "Now, I'm very flattered by your offer but it's a no," he added firmly. "There are plenty of other tops out there who I'm sure would take on a good-looking boy like you if you're lonely. Maybe someone closer to your own age?"

"None of them are like you, sir," the corporal sighed, looking utterly crestfallen.

"It's pretty common for a young sub such as yourself to have a crush on a high-ranking military commander," John said with a smile. "But love - and sex - are a damn sight more complicated than that, Hicks, as I'm sure you'll learn."

Hicks sighed, a somewhat dramatic and heartfelt sigh. John suppressed a grin - he doubted the boy's heart was broken - he had just seen something he wanted and had gone for it. John didn't begrudge him that. He held out a hand and the corporal took it and John pulled him to his feet. "You'll do fine," John told him, ushering him towards the door. "There are plenty of good, strong tops on this expedition who'd love to have a pretty boy like you warming their beds, believe me." He opened the door and pushed the boy out, giving him a sharp swat on his ass on the way. The corporal turned, a grin of delight spreading over his face as he rubbed his ass.

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" he said as he walked away. John shook his head, still grinning, and then went back into his room.

"I just never see it coming," he sighed to himself as he walked towards the bathroom.

It was late by the time he made it to the mess hall, dressed more casually in a pair of black jeans and a tight black tee shirt, with his black leather vest over the top. He got a tray of food and then glanced around the place - and his eyes alighted on Dr Beckett sitting across the table from Rodney McKay. John felt his stomach do an odd little lurch, and he decided he was hungrier than he'd thought as he made his way across the packed room to the two men.

Carson looked up as he got to the table, and the doctor gave him a broad grin.

"Mind if I join you?" John asked.

"Of course not!" Carson beamed, but John noticed that Rodney glanced at him sourly and then grunted something into his meal. John took his seat, and gazed at the scientist. Rodney looked as dishevelled as usual - John wondered if he was actually intending to grow a beard as the stubble on his chin was now getting a little out of hand.

"How are you doing, Dr McKay?" he asked, intending it to be general conversation, but then the events of that morning flooded back and he winced, realising he'd probably said the wrong thing. Rodney gave him a baleful glare.

"Fine," he growled. "Absolutely fine." Then he turned his attention to his food. John watched in amazement as the scientist began shovelling the food into his mouth and swallowing it down so fast that he could surely barely taste it.   
"So," Carson said, glancing sideways at John, "I was delighted to receive a few visits from some of your men today, Colonel."

"Really?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. They had an assortment of minor cuts and bruises. I gather you held a little practice session for them this afternoon." Carson cast a broad, knowing grin in John's direction.

"They came to you for that? My god, what a bunch of whiners!" John laughed. "I'd have taken what was coming to me and laid low to lick my wounds in private if it had been me - I wouldn't have dared show my face in the infirmary expecting anyone to take care of it."

"Oh, I had some very fine medicine for them to take," Carson said, the twinkle in his blue eyes belying the solemnity of his expression. "It tastes pretty nasty, mind, but I assured them it'd do them good - and to be sure it won't do them any actual *harm*," he added, with an impish grin.

John grinned back at him - Carson was a top after his own heart.

"What's this?" Rodney asked, between mouthfuls of food. John itched to take the plate away from him and feed him by hand, slowly, so he could appreciate the meal.

"The colonel here held a special practice session in the punishment room this afternoon," Carson told him, and he leaned forward as he did so; John got the impression he really wanted Rodney to understand what had happened. "I gather he asked for some volunteers - Bates, Hicks, Krettman, Harley, Zeigler, Smith…." Carson paused for a moment to allow the significance of those names to sink in. Rodney stopped, in mid-chew, and gazed at Carson, and John was struck by how those blue eyes of his seemed to show every single thought that crossed his super-fast mind. Blankness, followed by confusion, followed by realisation, followed by suspicion - that last as he turned those blue eyes upon John.

"A special practice session?" Rodney queried, chewing again, as fast as ever, his eyes fixed on John.

"Yeah - I wanted to get a few things straight with them," John told him. "They don't know me very well so I took the opportunity to enlighten them," he grinned. "I took them through some moves, eight times each - they ended up on the floor each time. I think they know me a hell of a lot better now."

Rodney seemed to consider that, and then, finally, he grunted. He looked away from John but John noticed him looking back, a few seconds later, from under his dark eyelashes, furtively snatching an uncertain glance at him when he thought John wasn't looking.

At that moment a loud shout went up across the mess hall and the three men looked up to see a little crowd gathering around two marines, patting them on their backs, and generally making a fuss of them.

"Aw – look. Stackhouse has collared Markham," Carson said, smiling fondly. John grinned, realising that the two men were sharing a plate, rather self-consciously, for the first time, and Markham had a shiny new collar around his neck. Clearly the event had not gone un-noticed, and people were congratulating the pair on this new stage in their relationship.

"Oh for god's sake!" Rodney exploded. "Who the hell gives a damn? It's nauseating the way everyone turns into simpering yentas the minute some lame-assed couple decides to share a plate."

"I think it's very romantic," Carson sighed. "Don't you, Colonel?"

"Never seen the appeal myself," John shrugged.

"And have you never thought about one day collaring a sub?" Carson said, looking rather dreamy.

"Nope." John shook his head. "More trouble than it's worth. I think subs are more into all that kind of stuff than tops anyway."

"Not this sub," Rodney snorted. "The whole thing is a total waste of time if you ask me."

"You have not one romantic bone in your body, either of you!" Carson lamented.

"So what are you working on?" John asked Rodney, changing the subject. "Did you get the naquada generators in place?"

"I'm almost done," Rodney replied, soaking up a mass of gravy with some bread and then stuffing the bread in his mouth. "I've got to get back to the lab this evening to work on the final connections and then that should be it." John had to struggle to make out the last bit of that sentence as Rodney had so much food in his mouth. "In fact…I'm going to shoot off now," Rodney said, getting up, still chewing as he went. He grabbed the chunk of bread still left by his plate and stuffed it into his pocket. "See you, Carson…Colonel." He flashed a half-smile in the doctor's direction but only managed a stiff nod at John. John watched him go, lost in thought as he gazed at the scientist's disappearing ass.

"He's gotta get bad indigestion eating at that pace," John muttered to Carson when the scientist was finally out of sight.

"Rodney does everything too fast," Carson told him, looking at John with an oddly searching expression. "He's never still - and he's heading for a heart attack the way he goes on. He needs to find a good way to relax, but his head is always buzzing too much. To be honest I'm worried about him."

John frowned. "Is this about this morning?" he asked. "Because I took care of that the best I could - and at least he knows that now."

"Aye, and I'm grateful to you for that, Colonel," Carson said, nodding his head. "But this isn't just about this morning. You wouldn't know it to look at him right now but Rodney's always been kind of fastidious about his personal appearance."

"Really?" John raised an eyebrow.

"I know, I know." Carson shook his head wearily. "The way he looks at the moment is just another symptom of what's going on for him right now I think. He's stopped caring and I'm worried he's heading for the brink. I wish I knew a way to head him off. Maybe you have some ideas, Colonel?"

"Me? Why? I barely know the man."

Carson gave a little laugh. "Colonel, I just saw you checking out his ass, and you asked me some pretty personal questions about him earlier. I got the impression you were interested."

"What?" John frowned. Interested? In a man like McKay? A scruffy, sarcastic, arrogant man who was already proving that John's initial analysis of him as Trouble was turning out to be pretty spot on?

"Aye." Carson leaned back in his chair, and gave John a speculative look.

"Nope," John said, taking a forkful of food. "I just wanted to make amends for an injustice, and I've done that, so…" he shrugged, not meeting Carson's eye.

"Were you thinking of taking a sub?" Carson asked. "I can't believe that a man like you would have any shortage of offers."

"I just got one this evening as a matter of fact!" John laughed. "Nice lad - waiting outside my quarters when I got back."

"What did you do?" Carson asked quietly.

"Turned him down," John shrugged. "I'm not looking for just another pretty sub to decorate my bed."

"My god," Carson breathed. "This happens to you all the time doesn't it? Subs throwing themselves at you."

John looked up, surprised. "Well, I suppose I've had my fair share of offers, yes," he said. They had been beautiful offers too, he thought to himself, remembering the many men and women he'd taken to his bed over the years. Usually only the most attractive people ended up there as well - not by John's design, but it was simply that the more attractive subs were the ones who were confident enough to make the first move. He remembered Melissa, with her long, dark red hair, and vivacious brown eyes - she'd been his first proper sub, when he was finding out what kind of a top he was, and he could still recall the thrill he'd got from tying her to his bed, and making her his. After that, there had been so many easy conquests that he'd lost count. He'd enjoyed them all but he couldn't honestly say that he remembered them all, and when they'd eventually slipped out of his life he'd made no effort to keep them. He hadn't loved any of them enough to even try.

"Have you ever made the first move?" Carson asked.

John frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, to me, part of what I enjoy about being a top is looking over the available subs, getting to know them, and considering if any of them could offer me anything I'd be interested in. Then I like planning a slow seduction." Carson grinned. "I'm something of a romantic, Colonel, so I like to woo my subs, with fine wine and candlelit meals. I want to let them know what I can offer them in return for their submission and I want to know we'll at least have something to talk about when the sex is over. I'm not saying I've never been propositioned, but, not looking like you, with that effortless air of chilled out toppiness that you exude, I've always had to try a little harder I think. I prefer the thrill of the chase in any case."

John gazed at him thoughtfully. "I haven't taken a sub in over a year," he confided, unsure why he wanted to share this private fact with the doctor, but there was something easy about talking to Carson - he'd only known the man for a few weeks but he already knew, instinctively, that Carson was going to be a good friend. He didn't know what he'd expected Carson's reaction to this information to be, but he sure as hell hadn't expected the doctor to throw back his head and laugh.

"I'm sorry!" Carson said, patting John's arm affectionately. "I'm not mocking you. I'm just thinking that here I was envying you the way you look, the way you act, and that innate sense of cool…" John raised an eyebrow at that, "and thinking that you have no idea how it is for us mere mortals, and then you say this. John…do you mind if I call you that?" John shook his head. "John, bless you, lad, but you're bored. It's all been too easy for you, hasn't it?"

"Maybe. I just woke up one day and realised I wasn't getting anything out of it. I'm not saying it wasn't fun, just that I had this craving for something more."

"Ah - there see, you're a romantic too," Carson told him. "You're looking for love, John, and that's a lot harder to find than sex."

"Yeah," John sighed.

"Maybe you need to stop just taking what's on offer, and start thinking about what you really want from a relationship," Carson told him. "If you just wait around for the right sub to throw themselves at you then you might be in for a long wait, John, and I can see that celibate year you've just had stretching into two - and then more. You're so used to just taking what's on offer that you've never thought about going after something you want, have you? Or maybe you're just not sure what you want. Perhaps what you want might be so far from what you'd ever imagined yourself wanting that you won't even consider it."

John frowned. "Are we talking about Rodney McKay again here?" he asked.

Carson grinned. "You were definitely checking out his ass."

"The man is rude, obnoxious, sarcastic and arrogant - you said so yourself!" John replied, shaking his head. "To say nothing of the fact that he looks like everyone's definition of a mad scientist with that hair and those coffee-stained clothes. Why on earth would I be interested in him?"

"We're not on Earth any more, John," Carson told him, patting his arm again. "And you want something more than beautiful, willing bodies, I believe? He's not your usual type but then how would you know when you've only taken what throws itself at you, and never thought about what *you* are really looking for? Rodney isn't some pretty, empty-headed young sub - he's only a couple of years younger than you, and since he's about the smartest man in two galaxies I think it's safe to say that he's intelligent enough to hold your interest. True, he's lacking in social skills, and lord knows he's a bit of a lost soul, in need of some guidance - the kind of guidance that a good, strong top could give him. Maybe what you're looking for is a challenge, John. If you are, then I'd say you won't get much more of a challenge than Rodney McKay."

"You said he'd bite off my hand as soon as kiss it," John reminded him. Carson grinned.

"I did, and he will. If you're waiting for him to turn up outside your room and offer himself to you then you're in for a long wait. If, however, you want something more meaningful, then Rodney McKay might just be your man. It won't be easy, but then you've had easy all your life and you're bored with it. Maybe it's time to try something new?"

John sat back in his chair and stared at him. "I can't work out if you're very mischievous or very wise," he said at last. Carson gave that impish grin.

"Perhaps a little of both," he said. "But when I look at you I see someone very driven, very focussed - you'd have to be to get as far as you have in your career - and nobody in the military has a bad word to say about you. You're their golden boy and you don't seem to have put a foot wrong in your entire life - and that fascinates me a little. You've owned up to your ambitions but I wonder if you've ever even paid a moment's passing attention to your other needs? In some ways I think you know yourself very well, John, but in others - not at all. Maybe it's time to find out what's underneath that cool exterior - perhaps we'll all be surprised by it - you included."

John gazed at him, feeling slightly winded. Nobody had ever talked to him this way before, but then again, most of his friends had been military people, like him, and they rarely spoken about anything that deep - and, if John was honest, he'd always avoided these kinds of conversations before. Carson was an old soul, and he looked as if he understood the human heart all too well. Perhaps he was right? Rodney McKay though…John remembered the look in Rodney's eyes that morning as he'd turned his head and taken his licks, and his heart flipped in his chest. He remembered the rising tide of anger that he'd fought to control as he watched the man being punished publicly, and how wrong it had felt. John had never experienced emotions like these before and he'd just pushed them aside, unsure how to deal with them, but, after talking to Carson, that seemed like the coward's way out, and one thing John was pretty sure about was that he wasn't a coward.

Carson got up and nodded at him. "Something to think about, John," he said, and then, with another of those flashing grins, he left. He was right about that much at least. John gazed back at his plate, but suddenly he wasn't hungry any more. He remembered how he'd felt watching Rodney eat so quickly - how he'd wanted to take the plate away from him and hand feed him, and that was an impulse he'd never had in his life before. He knew some tops who couldn't wait to start hand-feeding their subs from their own plates but that had never been an impulse John had ever experienced. It just seemed like a giant chore to him – his subs had hands so he didn't see why they needed him to feed them. Sharing a plate was a big deal – a sign that a couple were serious about each other, and John hadn't ever been serious about anyone in his life. Whenever previous lovers had suggested to him that it was perhaps time that they shared a plate, he'd run a mile and they'd been out of his life before they could blink, and yet here he was considering sharing a plate with a man who hadn't said one nice word to him yet.

A challenge? Carson was sure as hell right about that! And Carson was right about something else as well - he *had* been checking out Rodney's ass, and he'd been having all these strange thoughts and feelings about Rodney ever since he met the man. Something was going on for him, something he'd never experienced before, and he guessed he owed it to himself to find out what it was.

John made his decision, pushed his plate away, and got to his feet. Rodney had said he was going back to his lab. He'd take a trip there, on his way back to his quarters, and see if he could make any headway with the man.

 

~*~

 

Rodney McKay returned to his lab, humming to himself. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of the conversation he'd just had with Carson and the new military commander, a man he distrusted on principle. Rodney had a lot of experience of the military, and mostly it hadn't been good. He thought that possibly might have been at least partially his fault - he knew he did and said things that upset the military boys, but he had no idea how to change and no real intention of doing so, so he'd have to live with it.

The lab was in darkness when he got back and Rodney grumbled to himself under his breath. He had told Radek to always keep a light on - Rodney never viewed himself as being off duty and he frequently got up in the middle of the night to go back to work when his insomnia got the better of him. He could do without fumbling around in the darkness and tripping over things. He turned on the light and started to walk over to his work station.

"Hello, Rodney," a voice behind him said. He turned, startled, to see Sergeant Bates sitting at Radek's work station.

"What the hell do you want?" he growled.

"You." Bates got up, and walked over to Rodney, with that tightly controlled walk of his, all his muscles bunched up under the skin. Rodney took a step back, and then another, and ended up flush against the wall with nowhere else to go.

"Are you threatening me?" Rodney demanded, coming out all guns blazing. He'd be damned if he'd let this oaf know that he was intimidated by him. "If so, I will have your ass, Sergeant."

"Really? Or maybe I'll have yours," Bates said, standing too close, invading his personal space.

"You already got your pound of flesh this morning," Rodney snapped. "Wasn't that enough for you?"

Bates gazed at him with an oddly intense stare, his gaze lingering on Rodney's lips in a way the scientist found disconcerting.

"This morning...no, you see, this morning just whetted my appetite for more," Bates said. "Seeing you, getting your ass warmed…made me wonder what you'd feel like squirming under my belt, Rodney."

Rodney glared at him. "In your dreams, Bates," he snapped. He tried to push the sergeant away but the other man took hold of him and slammed him back against the wall. Rodney's head banged against it with a thud and he felt a sense of helplessness spread through him. Damn these people - they were only one step up from Neanderthals and they dared to treat him like this - and damn him too because he had no answer for it. Never had.

"Careful, Sergeant," Rodney warned. "I could have you up on charges."

Bates shook his head. "Who'll believe you?" he said. "Everyone will think you're making it up to get back at me for this morning."

Rodney closed his eyes and thumped his own head back against the wall this time. Bates was right. It seemed like he was stuck with this particular tormentor for the rest of his life.

"What do you want?" Rodney asked quietly, opening his eyes again. He was surprised to find that Bates wasn't looking at him with any malice - there was a different expression entirely in his eyes.

"I already told you," Bates said, gazing at Rodney hungrily. "You don't have a top at the moment do you, Rodney?" Realisation assaulted Rodney and he gazed at the other man in horror.

"No, I don't, and I'm not looking for one."

"I'd take care of you. I'd protect you - make sure the other lads treated you okay. They'd never bother you again," Bates said, his eyes still fixed on Rodney's lips.

"Forget it. I'm not interested," Rodney snapped. He tried to push past Bates but the other man reached out and thumped him back against the wall again.

"The longer you make me wait, the more I'll take it out on your ass when you finally give in," Bates warned him.

"Well, that's such a tempting prospect, thanks," Rodney retorted sarcastically. "Tell me, Bates, why the hell you think a man like me would be interested in a grunt like you? Hmm? Your friend was a pinhead and you're just as stupid. Explain to me why that would appeal to me?"

Bates's expression tightened. "You want someone to give it to you rough," he said, in a low growl. "I can do that. I'm a hard top, Rodney - and you want that, don't you? You want to be bent over and fucked, and I'll fuck you like nobody ever fucked you before in your life."

"How romantic." Rodney pulled a face. "You sure as hell know how to sweet-talk a sub into bed, Bates. Look, I don't know what game you're playing but the answer is no."

Bates reached up, and stroked a finger down the side of Rodney's cheek. Rodney shuddered - and Bates grinned.

"That's good. That's the kind of reaction I like from my subs," he purred.

Rodney shook his head. "I'm not your sub, Bates. Look, until today you gave every impression of despising me - why the sudden interest? You want a trophy boyfriend? Someone you can show off to your family so they'll realise you're not the total loser they always thought? Hmm? Is that it?"

Bates's expression darkened. "You know, for a smart man you can be pretty dumb at times," he said.

"So I'm often told," Rodney replied, rolling his eyes. "But I'm still mystified as to your sudden 'romantic' interest in me, if that's what we can call it. I thought your friend told you and everyone else who'd listen what a crappy sub I am. So why the hell are you interested in me?"

"Well maybe that's part of the appeal - I like the idea of whipping you into shape." Bates lingered on the word 'whipping' and Rodney felt a shiver creep up his spine. "I've always liked making you squirm. You're such an arrogant S.O.B," Bates said. "Think you're so much smarter than everyone else…."

"I am!" Rodney protested.

"It's been fun, baiting you, but after this morning, watching you get your ass tanned…I want more. I want a piece of this ass." Bates's hand stole around Rodney's waist and cupped his left buttock, squeezing just a bit too tight. Rodney gazed at him helplessly - he recognised the look in the sergeant's eyes all too well. It was the look of a child in the schoolyard, chasing after one of the other kids so he could pull their hair and make them cry, and not because he didn't like them but precisely because he did. He didn't doubt that Bates's interest was genuine but the sergeant wasn't the kind of top who appealed to Rodney. He was sure there would be some subs out there who'd be turned on by this kind of behaviour, but he wasn't one of them.

"Take your hands off me, Bates," he said coolly. "It's never going to happen."

Bates gazed at him, his tongue sliding over his lips as he considered it. Rodney saw him almost visibly trying to decide whether to take this further, whether Rodney was just playing the coy sub, or whether to leave it there. Finally, he drew back.

"Make me wait then," Bates told him. "But remember what I said about your ass paying for it when you finally come crawling into my bed. I will have you, Rodney."

And then he drew back, and left the room. Rodney stood there for a moment, trying to get his breath back. Damn it, but his life was difficult enough without *this*. He wondered if he should tell someone - maybe Carson - but he felt ashamed of his own inability to deal with the situation more effectively. Maybe, in his own twisted way, Bates thought he had feelings for Rodney, but, like a small minority of the more stupid tops, he seemed to think it was enough to merely show up and be forceful to have a sub falling at his feet. Rodney wasn't the least bit attracted to that kind of a top. In fact, he still wasn't entirely sure what kind of tops he *was* attracted to. For a long time he hadn't even been sure he was a submissive - he was too irascible, too intellectual, too damn *smart* for most tops, as well as being far too opinionated. He'd either eaten his tops alive and spat them out, used up and useless, or they'd had to be so tough with him in order to keep him in line that he'd felt impossibly restricted, unable to breathe or be himself, and when his work had started to suffer that's when he got out because nothing, *nothing* was more important than his work. He'd tried being a top himself but had swiftly come to the conclusion that wasn't going to work. Now he'd pretty much given up on finding anyone he was compatible with, because sex was complicated and relationships even more so and he didn't think he'd ever figure them out. Although he told himself that he was simply too much the genius for any mere mortal to handle, a small nugget of doubt, deep within, suggested to him that the fault lay not with his genius but with himself. On some level he knew himself to quite simply not be lovable, so it was no surprise when each failed relationship, or dismal one night stand, proved that point to him over and over again. His most recent sexual encounter, with a marine who Rodney had mistakenly believed to be the strong-but-silent type had been a disaster. He'd discovered that that silence hadn't been hiding a quiet strength, but instead a knuckle-headed stupidity. The man, quite simply, had had nothing intelligent to say for himself, and once Rodney figured that out it had been hard to retain any respect for him -and Rodney couldn't find it in him to sub to someone he had no respect for. He'd ended it without a second thought, after having given the marine the benefit of his extremely long and thorough opinion on the subject, and he'd been surprised when Sergeant Stupid had then turned into Sergeant Vindictive, and started stirring up trouble for Rodney with his marine friends. Up until then, Rodney had enjoyed a fairly amicable relationship with the military. His job had always required him to work closely with them and while sometimes he found the military mind to be unbelievably slow, he would be the first to admit they had their uses.

At that moment the door opened again, and Rodney looked up, his heart beating too fast, wondering if Bates had returned, but instead he saw Colonel Sheppard standing there.

"What do *you* want?" Rodney snapped, over-wrought and just wanting to be left alone.

"Just thought I'd check up on you," the colonel said. Rodney gazed at him blankly.

"Why?" he asked at last. "I mean, really - WHY? Don't you think it'd be weird if I came to your office and said that? What the hell is wrong with you military boys anyway? Look, this is my lab, and I don't want you or any of your men coming in here without my express invitation - is that understood?" He found his chest heaving up and down, and he practically shouted those last few words. Colonel Sheppard gazed at him, those hazel eyes cool, and just a little bit angry.

"Yes, that's understood, Doctor," he said.

"Good. I know you've somehow managed to trick Carson into thinking that the sun shines out of your ass, but you don't fool me, Colonel," Rodney yelled, his heart still pounding, stressed out from the day's humiliating events, his own lack of sleep, and the recent incident with Bates. He'd thought, earlier, during dinner, that maybe Carson was right, and John Sheppard was one of the good guys, but Bates had shown him that you couldn't afford to let your guard down for a second. John Sheppard wore a uniform, and as far as Rodney was concerned, that made him the enemy.

"I see." Sheppard's eyes narrowed as he gazed at Rodney. "Okay. Fine. You've made yourself perfectly clear, Dr McKay. I promise you that I won't bother you again," he said and there was something hard about the way he said it that brought Rodney up short. He watched as the colonel left the room, his back stiff, and then, finally, thank god, Rodney was alone.

He sat down weakly on a chair, and gazed off into space, trying to collect himself, his hands and knees moving restlessly, full of anxiety. He'd thought that coming out here he'd be able to make a fresh start. Things had gone so badly for him back on Earth of late, but it seemed his bad luck had followed him, and he didn't have a clue what to do about it. Whatever he did seemed to backfire, and he honestly didn't understand why. He loved the work, loved this city and the Ancient technology they'd found here, but he found dealing with people as difficult as ever. If only they were all as easygoing as Carson, or as calm and unflappable as Elizabeth, but they weren't. He knew he wasn't popular, but even so, walking into that room this morning and being jeered…his heart pounded again, so fast he thought he was having some kind of seizure. His eyelids fluttered as he re-lived those terrible few minutes when he'd had to bend over that frame and take his punishment in front of that baying crowd. So much for new beginnings! And it hurt, damnit, it hurt deep in his soul. He felt bruised inside, unable to connect with people, or make them like him. Didn't they understand that without him they'd all be dead out here, so far from home, with no way of even contacting Earth? It might have been Colonel Sheppard's DNA that made the city light up wherever he went, but it was Rodney's skilful fingers that kept Atlantis running, Rodney's brilliant mind that unravelled mysteries that had lain dormant beneath the ocean for thousands of years, and Rodney's irrefutable genius that had kept them all alive. Yet even his brilliance hadn't been enough to impress them or make them value him, and he was as lost out here in the Pegasus galaxy as he had ever been at home.

Rodney tried to turn back to his work but found he couldn't concentrate. However much he pushed it aside, every so often he was assaulted by a memory of the morning's events. He had minded the punishment, painful though it had been, far less than the humiliation of the event, and yet there had been something so familiar about his own sense of hopelessness that his primary emotion when he'd bent over that frame had been one of resignation. That was strange, of and by itself, because he'd never been subject to a judicial punishment before. As a teenager he'd been forced to be old before his time, gaining his first degree at seventeen, mixing with people much older than himself, struggling to fit in but always set apart by virtue of both his age and his brilliance. Then, when his parents had been killed in a car crash shortly after his eighteenth birthday, he'd gone back home to take care of his younger sister. As the only beneficiaries of their parents' estate, money hadn't been an issue, and Rodney had simply lived at home during his studies, which had set him apart from his peers even more, but he'd tried to set an example to Jeannie as much as anything, having to be the grown-up in the house now that his parents were gone.

He'd always viewed himself as a fine, upstanding, law-abiding citizen - he might have a brusque manner and a smart mouth but that wasn't illegal and he had never hurt anyone in his life before that plate of jello had whizzed out of his hands and straight at Bates's forehead, taking them both by surprise. He hadn't meant it to happen, was still freaked out that he had done it at all, even while he relished the memory of finally letting go and screaming at a man who had made his life a misery for so many months. All the same, he was genuinely sorry for it, and now he was here, stuck in this place with people who gave every appearance of hating him, if his reception this morning was anything to go by.

A hot sweat prickled on his skin as he replayed the memory again. Him, standing in the doorway…that conversation with Peter that was a complete blank to him now…the look of discomfort in Peter's eyes - because Peter wasn't happy having to do this any more than Rodney was happy having to suffer it, not least because Peter of all people knew how brilliant Rodney was, and respected his work. Then there had been the slow walk over to the frame…the unutterable humiliation of unfastening his pants and having to offer himself up for punishment like a common criminal. It had all been so demeaning. He recalled turning his head sideways as he grasped the handles of the frame…and Sheppard had been there, just standing there, watching. Sheppard with his phoney concern, those hazel eyes of his mocking Rodney just as his marines had mocked Rodney.

Rodney took hold of his laptop and threw it across the room with all his force, and then stood there, panting, gazing at the shattered machine which was now lying in a mess of exposed circuitry on the floor.

"Okay then," he said, his crooked mouth quirking into a stubborn grin. "You may not like me but let's see you cope without me."

He glanced around the lab, thoughtfully. He had a mental list of many projects he wanted to work on when he had the time - well, why not now? Why was he flogging himself into the ground to equip this city to run on Naquada generators, a technology not strictly compatible with the way Atlantis was wired, when he could be working on his own pet projects? Oh, he wouldn't put the city at risk - he had as much of a vested interest in staying alive as the rest of them after all - but he wouldn't dance to their tune any more. Elizabeth had a list of projects which she'd personally prioritised and Rodney had agreed with her assessment. Despite his sarcastic manner, he'd always been a team player. He liked being part of something - it made him feel as if he belonged somewhere, as if he was vital and integral, and Rodney liked to feel needed. If he couldn't be popular, he could at least be *necessary*, but now he simply didn't care any more. After this morning he'd gone beyond caring. Maybe this had been building up for sometime, but Rodney wasn't thinking with any degree of clarity and his own motivations were a mystery to him. All he knew was that he hurt, lost in his own pain, and his reflex was to lash out in the only way he knew how.

Rodney found another laptop, and scanned the list with a scathing eye. He mentally crossed off the less interesting projects, and inserted some of his own preferred projects instead. Then, with a savage smile, he set to work.

 

~*~

 

John Sheppard was woken at six a.m. by the soft bleep of his radio. He reached for it, blearily, and cleared his throat into it.

"Sheppard," he mumbled.

"Sir? It's Hicks. Uh…we don't seem to have power down here," the corporal said. John reached out and flicked on his lamp.

"Working okay here," he said. "Where are you?"

"In my quarters, sir."

"Could be a…fuse?" John suggested, knowing that was ridiculous because the city didn't run on electricity.

"None of the marines have power, sir," Hicks told him. "Our entire floor is in darkness."

"Okay. I'm onto it," John said, swinging his feet over the side of the bed. He clicked the radio frequency to the lab, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, because this meant that he had to talk to Rodney McKay and frankly, after last night, that was the last thing in the world that he wanted to do. "Dr McKay?" he said, in as polite a voice as he could manage. The scientist answered with a brusque, "I'm busy so this had better be important" and John clenched his fists and counted to three before replying. "It is - my men don't have any power."

"Yes I know," Rodney replied. John thought about that for a second because it wasn't the response he'd been expecting. The scientist didn't sound remotely surprised.

"And the reason would be?" he ventured.

"I'm working on an experiment that needs power - so I diverted some," Rodney replied.

"Okay." John frowned. "Any reason why you diverted it from my men's quarters?"

"Well it had to come from somewhere," Rodney snapped.

"And your choice for where that somewhere was wouldn't have anything to do with what happened yesterday morning, would it?" John snapped back.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Rodney replied, and then the link was severed. John sighed, and got up. Clearly this would take some sorting out. He pulled on his uniform and then trotted down to the lab, unshaven, his uncombed hair sticking up from his head. Damn Rodney McKay - he was proving to be even more Trouble than John had expected when he first met the man. Carson was insane to think John could be interested in someone so completely irritating and hostile. John barged into the lab without knocking, ignoring what Rodney had told him the previous evening. The scientist was all alone in the lab, and John suspected, from looking at him, that he hadn't left the place since their conversation the previous evening.

"Dr McKay, would you care to tell me what experiment is so important that you diverted power from my men's quarters?" he demanded. Rodney glanced at him with a malicious smile.

"I could explain it to you but I very much doubt you'd understand it," he said.

"Try me." John crossed his arms over his chest.

"It would be a waste of my time," Rodney replied airily, turning back to his work. "You're undoubtedly too stupid to understand it."

John uncrossed his arms and went over to the scientist.

"Excuse me?" he said, in a dangerous tone.

"Stupid," Rodney told him, with only the briefest glance in his direction. "Too - stupid - to - understand."

It was all John could do not to grab the scientist by the lapels of his lab coat and shake him. Hard.

"Okay, hopefully *you're* not too stupid to understand *this*," John told him. "Get that power back on in my men's quarters within five minutes or there will be unpleasant consequences."

"Would you like to detail them to me?" Rodney asked. "Just so I know what these unpleasant consequences are?"

John smiled, a slow, frightening smile. "No. I think I'll just leave them to your imagination," he replied.

And with that he strode out of the room. He stomped back to his own room, seething. He'd dealt with many difficult people in his time but none of them came close to Rodney McKay for sheer irritation factor. There was the man's superiority complex for a start, combined with that smug little smile on those crooked lips of his. John wanted to…he wasn't sure exactly what he wanted to do but he *was* sure that it involved wiping that smirk off McKay's face. It took a lot to make John lose his cool but he'd come dangerously close to it back there in the lab; people rarely got under his skin like that and it had taken him by surprise. John reached his room, and tapped his radio.

"Hicks - let me know when the power comes back on," he growled.

"It just has, sir," Hicks told him.

"Good. Fine." John took a few deep breaths. It seemed that however obnoxious Rodney McKay was, he did at least know when he was on thin ice which was good - at least John had found a way of handling the problematic scientist. John started to calm down, and he felt much more cheerful as he stripped off his clothes and got into the shower. Carson had been *so* wrong - he wasn't interested in Rodney McKay - he was merely *exasperated* by the man. Exasperated beyond belief! John turned on the faucet and grabbed the soap, and then let out a surprised yelp as a torrent of freezing cold water descended on his skin. At that precise moment the lights went off. He jumped out of the shower and felt around for his towel and then for his radio - but despite clicking McKay's frequency there was no reply. There was only one thing for it - John was in such a bad mood by this point that he didn't even bother pulling on a bathrobe. He simply tied his towel firmly around his waist and strode back down to the lab, dripping ice-cold water in his wake.

Rodney was still alone in the lab when he burst in, and the scientist looked up - and stayed looking as he caught sight of John's half-naked, furious, dripping wet body. Rodney's blue eyes widened and his gaze flickered, uneasily, over John's bare chest.

"Uh…" he said nervously, backing away as John advanced on him. John stopped in front of the scientist and smiled at him, a dangerous smile.

"Can you explain to me why I just had to take a cold shower?" John demanded.

"I'm not in the habit of prying into anyone's personal life," Rodney replied, rallying, that crooked mouth of his curving into the faintest hint of a smirk. "If you feel you need a cold shower then that's between you and your sub, although perhaps you ought to find a sub that takes better care of your needs if it's come to this."

"I don't have a sub," John replied. "I don't have any hot water or lights, either."

"Well, I'm sorry, on both counts," Rodney replied. "If you had a sub you might be less volatile and therefore less prone to storming around dressed only in a towel."

"Rodney," John said, keeping his voice sweet, "I don't have any lights or any hot water because you have diverted the power in my room to your experiment - as you well know."

Rodney blinked at him. "Well, you told me to restore the power to the marines' quarters so I did - but I had to replace that with power from somewhere else. Seeing as you were so adamant about your men having power I assumed you would be happy to go without on their behalf," he replied briskly, and then he glanced up at John from under his eyelashes, and for just a second there was a hint of mischief about him. John gazed at him steadily for a moment, and then, suddenly, he felt all the tension in his body break. God yes, Rodney McKay was Trouble, but by god he was *exhilarating* Trouble.

"All right. Okay. Here's how we're going to play this," John said softly. "I'm going to go to *your* room and take my shower there - somehow I'm betting the power will be on in there. You are going to restore the power to my room in time for me to use it this evening and make sure it stays on thereafter. And then *we* will say nothing more about this."

And with that, he turned on his heel and walked back towards the door, suddenly feeling very conscious of the fact that he was bare-chested and barefoot and showing a fair bit of leg in between as well.

"Sure you don't want to go running to Elizabeth about this?" Rodney called after him. "After all, isn't that what you military boys like to do?"

John turned, very, very slowly, and was gratified to see an expression of worry flit into Rodney's eyes.

"Oh I don't think I need to do that," John replied. "I think I can take care of you all by myself, Dr McKay. You might want to be careful about just how far you push me though."

Rodney looked at him with just a hint of uncertainty in those blue eyes of his, and then he shrugged, and started humming as he turned back to his work. John gazed at him for another couple of seconds, eyes narrowed, and then, finally, he left.

The exploits of Dr Rodney McKay became the stuff of legend over the next few days as the entire city spent huge periods of time enduring blackouts, and various other peculiar technological glitches necessitated by the scientist's mysterious 'experiments'. Finally Elizabeth called him in, and gave him a direct order to only work on projects she herself had sanctioned. Somehow John was not surprised, three days after that, to be once again watching Rodney McKay entering the punishment room - this time to be chastised for refusing to follow Lady Elizabeth's direct orders. It seemed as though the entire city was exasperated with the Head of Science, and the turnout was higher than it had been even the first time, although, once again, John noticed that none of Rodney's team was there. He found that intriguing, just as he found everything about Rodney intriguing, even if the man was incredibly annoying. Stories of Rodney's brusque temper and manner of talking to his subordinates abounded, and John would have thought that at least one or two of his team would enjoy seeing such a hard taskmaster taken down a peg or two, but that didn't seem to be the case.

John had procrastinated about whether to attend the disciplinary himself - he wanted to stay away, but somehow he found he couldn't. So he took a seat and watched as Rodney bounced into the room, looking very different to how he'd looked the last time he'd been punished. This time he was scruffier than ever, and there was a manic gleam in his eye as he took up his position. John found himself transfixed again by the way Rodney angled his face sideways and the expression in those blue eyes; they were defiant, rebellious even, and John had the shocked realisation that a good deal of what was going on with McKay was sheer bravado. He was, quite simply, running wild, and John wondered where this was all going to end. John wanted to take a quiet satisfaction from the scientist's discomfort, after having had several run-ins with the man over the previous few days, but instead, just like last time, he found himself getting angry, his fists clenching as he watched that faraway look of hopeless desperation creep into Rodney's eyes once more. John was glad when it was over, and the large crowd had dispersed back into the city. Rodney himself affected not to care, and left the room humming to himself when his punishment was done, to return to his beloved experiments as if nothing had happened.

John made his way to the mess hall and found Carson there, sipping a cup of coffee and reading a medical journal.

"Hey." John sat down with a weary sigh. Carson barely glanced at him.

"Hey," he muttered in a short tone. John frowned.

"Anything wrong?"

Carson put his journal down and glared at him. "You've just come from the bear pit I presume?" he said.

John shrugged. "Yes. Just…you know…wanted to keep an eye on the mood in the city," he lied. Carson's blue eyes looked right through him.

"I thought you were going to step in - show an interest in Rodney," he said.

"Oh I tried, believe me," John snorted. "The man is impossible."

"He knocked you back?" Carson gazed at him keenly.

"Knocked me back? We didn't even get that far," John grimaced. "He practically threw me out of his lab the minute I walked through the door. He made it very clear he wasn't interested in anything I have to say, and I've got better things to do than dance around after out of control subs."

"Oh really." Carson sat back in his chair and gave him an assessing look. "So, let me get this straight. You went to see Rodney and flashed that charming, laid-back smile of yours at him, and, when he didn't immediately fall swooning into your bed, you decided it was all going to be too hard for you so you gave up?" He raised an incredulous eyebrow. John felt himself flushing.

"Back off, Carson," he snapped. "It wasn't like that. I wasn't even sure I was interested in him and now that I've got to know him a bit more I think I can say categorically that I'm *not* interested in him, so don't give me all this grief. The man is out of control, and it's not my damn responsibility to take care of him and sort him out."

"Isn't it?" Carson asked softly.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Did you know that when he was punished for the incident with the jello, that was the first time Rodney had ever been publicly disciplined?" Carson asked.

John frowned. "Really? I find that hard to believe," he snorted.

"It's true. Rodney might be temperamental but he's never been in any trouble. He's a good team player, John, and he's always viewed himself as pretty law-abiding," Carson said. John thought about it for a moment.

"Well. Okay. That's a shame. But I still don't see how that makes him my responsibility."

"Then think about it," Carson said bluntly, and John had the distinct feeling that he was being out-topped by another top, which was a very unusual situation for him. Carson got up and leaned forward. "Look, your sex life is your own affair - if Rodney doesn't do it for you then that's fine. I don't care about that. But regardless of that, you still owe him, John."

And with that, Carson gathered up his journal, and his cup of coffee, and left.

John sat there for a moment, feeling winded. He decided that Carson was one of those tops who fooled you into thinking they were mild-mannered and easy-going while hiding a big damn paddle behind their backs the entire time, to pummel you if you stepped out of line. He wasn't entirely sure how he'd stepped out of line but he supposed, grudgingly, that Carson had a point. Rodney McKay was clearly in freefall right now, and as at least some of his descent had been precipitated by the incident with Bates, and seeing as how that had taken place on John's watch, then yes, as far as that went, he had some responsibility towards McKay. He still wasn't interested in taking the man as a sub - that moment of madness was well and truly over - but there were other things he could do to help.

At that moment the lights went off in the mess hall, leaving him in total darkness. John sighed. "Either that or we spend the rest of our lives in a permanent blackout," he muttered.


	3. On the Team

"You want me to be on your team?" Rodney frowned at him distrustfully.

"Yes I do." John nodded, doing his best not to cross his fingers behind his back. He had no idea whether this was a good plan or a really, really bad one, but he figured it was worth a try. The incident with Bates had clearly knocked Rodney, and the least he could do was to try and give the man something in return, something that would show him how much he was valued and respected.

"Any reason why you're asking now?" Rodney demanded. "I mean, you've tried out Parrish, and you've tried out Grodin, and Collins, and Lewis - you even tried out Zelenka…." Both John and Rodney shuddered in unison at that, and Zelenka turned around, took one look at them, and ducked down behind his work station. "And so what - now you're all out of scientists so you come to me?" Rodney raised an eyebrow.

"No. I should have come to you first," John told him firmly. "I just wasn't sure about the wisdom of putting the Head of Science out in the field - and therefore in danger - on a regular basis, that's all. But the truth is that we need the best - and you're that."

Rodney's sharp blue gaze softened slightly at that, and John bit back a smile.

"We also need a ZPM - urgently," John said. "You know that as well as I do, and we haven't had much luck finding one so far."

"Our need is pressing, yes," Rodney mused. "Until we get a ZPM we're sitting ducks out here, and if the Wraith come after us then we don't stand a chance."

"I am really concerned about our long term survival if we don't get our hands on a ZPM," John warned, in an undertone, glancing around the lab to make sure they weren't being overheard.

"Hmm. Well, it's a good thing you've finally come to your senses and picked the right man then, isn't it?" Rodney said, chest swelling up in pride. John nodded, still holding back that smile.

"Good to have you onboard, Dr McKay," he replied, reaching out a hand to pat the scientist's arm.

John wasn't sure what to expect on Rodney's first mission offworld, but he steeled himself for the man to be a total disaster - and was therefore pleasantly surprised. Rodney seemed very excited by the mission - he was at the gate, waiting, on time (in fact he was even a few minutes early), and suitably dressed in his mission jacket, with a gun strapped to his thigh. He still had a layer of stubble on his chin and his hair was all over the place but at least his clothes looked *clean* which was an improvement. John assembled his team together and looked them over - he'd tried various permutations thus far, and none of them had gelled particularly well. He was sure that he wanted Teyla on his team - she was a skilled fighter and she knew the local people so that was a no-brainer, and today he was trying out a young lieutenant who showed some promise - together with Rodney.

Rodney was clearly nervous but John kept by his side as they exited the gate, and he was surprised when Rodney ran forward excitedly towards some ancient ruins covered in some kind of runic symbols, and began studying them.

"Is this good?" John asked, unable to keep from smiling as Rodney hopped around like a demented bunny rabbit on acid. This was a side to the man he hadn't seen before, and there was something unexpectedly endearing about it.

"Good - it's remarkable!" Rodney exclaimed happily. "The information on these runes could be invaluable. There might even be an indication of where to find a ZPM."

"Great. How long will it take you to transcribe them?" John asked.

"I have no idea. Hours - maybe days." Rodney beamed delightedly and John's heart sank.

"Okay then," he sighed, beckoning Ford and Teyla over so they could scout out the perimeter. Ford was bouncing around like a puppy, showing off for Teyla, and John couldn't help but grin to himself. John knew well enough by now that the most surprising people could be tops and vice versa - how a person behaved in their everyday life was no clue to their sexual orientation. However, he'd have bet his bottom dollar that Teyla was a top, and Ford was acting the totally besotted sub, showing off for all he was worth in order to get Teyla's attention. John had been the focus of that kind of behaviour all too often himself but he figured that a strong, assured top like Teyla had to be pretty familiar with it too, and able to deal with it without him butting in and rescuing her. Maybe she would even consider taking Ford as her sub. As far as John could see she was unattached - she didn't seem to be sharing a room with any of the other Athosians. She was certainly gracious enough towards Ford, while at the same time never once dropping her guard, or being distracted from their mission, which was a good thing as it turned out because a few minutes later the Wraith showed up, all guns blazing.

"Out! Out, out, out!" John yelled at Rodney, running up to the scientist and grabbing his jacket at the same time as turning and firing a volley of shots at the pursuing wraith. Rodney didn't need telling twice. He scooped up his laptop and ran straight for the gate. John covered him, firing at the wraith, and then ran after the scientist. They were nearly at the gate when a wraith emerged from one side, cutting them off. John fired and hit the creature, but then saw, too late, another wraith materialising seemingly out of nowhere, gun pointed straight at him. Time slowed down; John was dimly aware of someone yelling, "Look out!" and then he was knocked out of the way, and as he fell he saw the wraith unleash a shot that hit his rescuer point blank in the head. John flipped over and saw Rodney lying beside him, eyes closed, looking, to all intents and purposes, completely and utterly dead. Teyla ran up and took out the wraith, giving John time to grab Rodney and pull him bodily through the gate. Once his team were all home, and the shield had been raised, John knelt down beside the scientist and put his fingers to the man's neck, his own heart pounding so fast that he could hear it beating like a drum. He was taken aback by the strength of the wave of relief that washed over him when he felt a strong pulse beneath his fingertips.

"He was hit by a wraith stunner," Teyla said, coming up behind him, and gazing down on McKay. "He will be paralysed for a few hours but he should make a full recovery." A few seconds later Carson arrived with a gurney and Rodney was whisked off to the infirmary. "I think," Teyla said slowly, gazing after the stricken scientist, "that I must revise my initial impressions of Dr McKay. He was very brave out there."

"Yeah. You and me both," John muttered grimly.

Lady Elizabeth wasn't happy.

"Everywhere you go, the Wraith always seem to arrive shortly afterwards," she told him, pacing around her desk. "I think we must consider the fact that we have a spy among us."

"I find that hard to believe," John said, shaking his head.

"You have to admit that it's strange that every time you go through the gate, the Wraith show up soon after. That's happened on five of your last nine missions."

"You're starting to see a pattern then?"

"Aren't you?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "Look, I'm not accusing Teyla, but how well do we know the Athosian people?"

"Don't go there," John said firmly. "Teyla's people hate the Wraith - there is no way they've betrayed us. It has to be someone else."

"Not one of our people," Elizabeth said, equally firmly.

"I'm fairly sure Teyla will say the same about her people," John sighed.

"Maybe so, but I have to take precautions and I can vouch for my own people but there are many Athosians I don't even know. So, I'm going to conduct a series of interviews with Teyla's people. In the meantime, all offworld missions are suspended until we get to the bottom of this," Elizabeth told him firmly. John nodded - she was right, even if he wasn't happy about it.

He made his way down to the infirmary and found Rodney lying there, eyes blinking blearily.

"You'll be all right, Rodney," Carson was telling him, one reassuring hand squeezing Rodney's shoulder affectionately. "The stunner affected your central nervous system but the effects will soon wear off."

John went over to the bed and smiled at the scientist. "So, you know we're out here to protect you, right? Not the other way around," he chided gently. Rodney gazed at him, those blue eyes still blinking, which was about the only way he could respond right now. John shook his head wryly. "Thanks though - I appreciate you knocking me out of the way and taking that shot yourself, especially as you had no way of knowing it was just a stunner."

"Eggy ixted," Rodney replied, slack-jawed, the expression in those wide blue eyes indicating that he was as surprised by what he'd done as John was.

"I think that was 'acting on instinct'," Carson translated helpfully.

"Well - all the same. Thanks." John grinned again, patted Rodney's shoulder, and turned to leave.

"I told you he was a team player," Carson murmured as he passed. John paused, and gazed at him.

"And I believed you. That's why I put him on the team," he said. Carson nodded, and John nodded back. Things were still a little strained between them, but he knew that the doctor meant well - he was just fiercely protective of his friend, and John could respect that.

 

~*~

 

Rodney was released from the infirmary several hours later, after driving even good-natured Carson insane with his constant moping about being bored - his speech came back a couple of hours before his motor skills, and he was never one to suffer in silence.

Rodney bounced back to his lab, feeling inexplicably cheerful, the minute the doctor finally kicked him out of the infirmary with instructions to take it easy for a few hours, which they both knew Rodney would ignore. Despite how it had ended, Rodney had loved his first offworld mission. He'd been aggrieved that Colonel Sheppard hadn't picked him to be on his team from the outset, but by this point being overlooked and downgraded was the very least he had come to expect from the military, so he hadn't been particularly surprised when Sheppard had selected various other members of his team to go offworld before approaching the obvious choice - himself.

He had been somewhat mollified by Sheppard's explanation that it was because he was too valuable to lose - which was true of course. Certainly his wounded pride had been soothed enough to make him forget the previous slight and, even if it hadn't, his excitement at finally getting a chance to explore this wonderful new galaxy in which they were stranded certainly would have done the trick. Rodney had an insatiably curious mind and coming across the ruined temple carved with Ancient runic symbols had been the kind of thing he'd fantasised about when signing up for this mission in the first place. Getting hit in the forehead by a wraith stunner wasn't something he'd anticipated but he guessed he was going to have to get used to that kind of thing if he was going to be on Colonel Sheppard's team. He still wasn't entirely sure why he'd saved Sheppard from being hit - he didn't even like the man particularly, although he did have to admit that he looked impressive in a towel.

Still, the day's events had been exciting - maybe his life had taken a turn for the better. It was late by the time Rodney got to his lab and everyone had gone. Rodney switched on his laptop to see what kind of a mess Radek had made of things in his absence, and was humming happily to himself as he worked when he heard a sound at the door, and then a familiar voice grated into his consciousness.

"I hear you were hurt today. I was worried about you."

Bates was standing in the doorway, carrying a cardboard box. Rodney slammed his laptop shut.

"Get out," he ordered.

Bates shook his head. "That's no way to talk to your prospective top, now is it?" he chided. "So, how did it go offworld? Were you out of your depth? Did you shiver and shake like a little girl when you got fired on, Rodney?"

"As a matter of fact, no," Rodney retorted. "It was good. I was good. It went well." He preened slightly at that, remembering the excitement of being out in the field, of finding that ruined temple with the possibility of a message from the Ancients carved on its crumbling stone walls. Bates gazed at him through narrowed eyes.

"Hmm. I was surprised Colonel Sheppard invited you along. Maybe he's got a death wish," he grinned.

"I thought I told you to get out," Rodney snapped.

"Uh-huh. My lady sent me to deliver this." Bates put the box down on the work surface.

"What is it?" Rodney asked suspiciously, not moving, suspecting some kind of a trap.

"Teyla's belongings. Lady Elizabeth thinks we have a spy among us alerting the Wraith to our offworld missions. She's spent the day interviewing all the Athosians to see where their loyalties lie. It was Teyla who pointed out that she was the one who'd accompanied Colonel Sheppard on all his offworld missions, so if we were looking for a spy it had to be her. She volunteered all her belongings for us to examine." Bates gave a hard little smile, and Rodney doubted that Teyla had exactly 'volunteered' them.

"Oh for god's sake - you can't possibly suspect Teyla of this!" Rodney exclaimed. He barely knew the Athosian woman but from what he'd seen of her, he really doubted she was involved in any kind of spying for the Wraith. He'd never met a more honest, genuine person.

"Check her belongings," Bates told him. "It's not a request - it's an order. Straight from Lady Elizabeth…only…I'm forgetting - you don't follow my Lady's orders these days do you?" Bates gave a tight little smile and moved closer to Rodney. Rodney faced him down. "Will you follow this one?" Bates murmured. "I wouldn't mind if you didn't - I enjoy watching you being punished, Rodney." He moved in even closer, invading Rodney's personal space. "You look so hot when your ass is being tanned - did you know that? Eyes down, submissive…I like that look. It suits you. One day you'll look at me like that."

"I'd rather die," Rodney replied.

Bates's expression turned hard and cold. "You're just resisting the inevitable, Rodney."

"That's Dr McKay to you because I think I outrank you by - oh I don't know - a billion times," Rodney said. "Let's go through the chain of command, shall we? First there's my Lady Elizabeth, and then…oh yes, that's right, there's me."

"Colonel Sheppard might have something to say about that," Bates snorted.

"He's a knucklebrain - just like you," Rodney replied dismissively. "He might command you military boys but don't ever forget that this is a civilian mission, and I'm second in line right after Lady Weir."

"She must wonder why she has to keep sending her second in command to the punishment room every five minutes then," Bates said with a grin. "It must be a bit of an embarrassment for her. Or maybe you enjoy it - is that it? Does it turn you on to get your ass tanned in front of all those people, *Dr McKay*?"

Rodney closed his eyes for a moment, remembering the sheer humiliation, to say nothing of the pain, of his punishment sessions in that room. There had been nothing pleasurable about it whatsoever, and he resented the taunt but he also knew that Bates enjoyed taunting him and he didn't want to give him the satisfaction of a response.

"I think you like it," Bates said, softly, moving closer. "I think you'll like it even more when I take you in hand."

"Never going to happen," Rodney hissed, through gritted teeth. Bates was so close now that they were standing nose to nose. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have work to do." He tried to push past Bates, shoving at him to get out of the way, but the sergeant grabbed his arm and forced him over the nearest work station, pushing his arm up behind his back to keep him in place.

"Come on, Rodney," Bates murmured, his breath warm and sickening on the back of Rodney's neck. "Just say the word and I'll take you on. There's no point you holding out for a better offer. No other top in this place is going to go near you." He leaned close against Rodney's body, and Rodney could feel the hardness of his erection pressed against his own ass. "So close," Bates whispered into Rodney's ear. "I bet you want it." He rubbed himself against Rodney's buttocks, and Rodney shuddered. "I mean it - who else is going to want you? You're arrogant, you yell at everyone, you look like shit, and you're earning yourself a reputation for trouble - nobody will ever want to take on someone like you. So do yourself a favour and get yourself over to my quarters so I can put you out of your misery."

"Let me go," Rodney growled, trying to twist out of the other man's grasp, angry with himself for not being able to get free.

"I'll make you crawl first. Make you crawl across the room, and beg at my feet. Make you beg for my hard cock," Bates whispered into his ear, making Rodney's blood run cold. "Make you pant, and plead, and whimper before I throw you over the table and fuck you into next week." He was rubbing harder now, and Rodney felt a tide of nausea at the thought that the man was masturbating himself on him.

Rodney managed to kick out with his foot and that dislodged Bates enough for him to wriggle out from the sergeant's grasp. Bates turned, and grabbed Rodney's arm again, clearly not done with him yet, but at that moment Zelenka bounded into the lab…and stopped short when he saw them. Bates dropped Rodney's arm immediately.

"I…realised I did not realign the conduits when I finished working," Radek said, frowning as he gazed at them. "Is everything okay in here, Dr McKay?" he asked quietly.

"Fine. Everything's fine," Rodney said, flushing slightly. The last thing he wanted was for anyone to know about this humiliating event.

Bates smiled at him, a thin, unpleasant kind of smile. "Lady Elizabeth wants to know about Teyla's belongings asap," he said. "So I suggest you get onto it, *Doctor*." He stressed Rodney's title with just the right degree of mockery, and Rodney felt his temper flare again. It was all he could do to nod stiffly to the man. Bates nodded back, grinning slightly at Rodney's discomfort, and then, with a disdainful glare in Zelenka's direction, he left the room.

"That man…seems often terse and mean," Radek commented when Bates was gone. "I do not like him."

"Oh for god's sake, Radek!" Rodney exploded, all the tension of the previous few minutes rising to the surface. "He's just a grunt! As for those conduits - I saw the work you did on them this afternoon and it's so sloppy a ten year old could have done it! Didn't you *read* the schematics I left you? If so, were you improvising on purpose, or did you just not understand what I was asking you to do?"

Radek gazed at him for a moment, with steady blue eyes behind his glasses. "I think the work was done okay," he said. "However, I am tired now, and it is late, and *you* have been in the infirmary all day and Dr Beckett said you should rest, yes? We can talk about the conduits some more tomorrow. I will leave you now to realign them yourself as my work is no good for you." He didn't wait for Rodney to reply. He just turned and left. Rodney gazed after him, his hands moving restlessly at his side, as they always did when he was anxious. He hadn't meant to yell at Radek quite so ferociously, but his pride was hurting beyond endurance right now. Here he was, the smartest man in two galaxies, and yet he couldn't shake himself of his unwanted 'admirer'. It was getting out of hand.

Rodney went over to the conduits to re-align them but he couldn't concentrate. He kept thinking about what Bates had said. He wasn't *looking* for a top, damnit! But all the same, the idea that nobody would want him anyway - well, he could pretty much believe that right now. He didn't know why it was the case, because it seemed to him that he was a damn good catch, being not only the smartest man on the base but also one of the most important, but he was sure Bates was right. No decent top was going to look twice at him, and while he had known that to be the case for a long time now, it didn't help to have your worst enemy confirm it.

Rodney finished with the conduits, and then turned his attention to the box with Teyla's belongings in it. He fished through them in distaste - he didn't like this kind of work, and if it hadn't been for the fact that the safety of the entire expedition was on the line then he would have refused to do it - just as he'd pretty much been refusing to do most of the other things Elizabeth had been ordering him to do lately. What surprised Rodney was how much he had enjoyed ignoring orders. He liked Elizabeth and had always been happy to obey her until recently - and yet there was something liberating about playing the rebel. Maybe he was making up for his lost teenage years, because god knows he hadn't done any real rebelling back then.

He was so busy ruminating along these lines that he almost fell off his chair when his desultory poking around with Teyla's necklace produced a flash of light, and he realised that there was a transmitter hidden in it.

It turned out that Sheppard himself had found the necklace a couple of weeks previously, buried under some dirt in a ruined city on Teyla's world, and he had given it to the Athosian woman - so the mystery of how the Wraith were being alerted to their presence was solved and nobody was to blame. Sheppard assembled his team in Rodney's lab the following morning to figure out what they were going to do about it.

"We need to use this to our advantage," the colonel said. Rodney eyed the box of guns and assorted ammunition that Ford had brought to the meeting, with a wary expression. "We need to get our hands on a living wraith and bring him back here so I can question him."

Rodney frowned. "That would be dangerous. Unless…oh god - you're going to keep him locked up, aren't you?"

The colonel gave him an assessing look. "It's the only way we'll be able to get the information we need, Rodney," he said.

"But…it's barbaric!" Rodney protested.

"They are trying to kill us, Dr McKay," Teyla pointed out. "They wish to hunt us for food."

"And it doesn't get more barbaric than that," Ford added. Rodney thought about it for a moment, surveying their anxious glances, and then, finally, he sighed.

"Okay," he muttered.

"Good. Here's how we'll play it…." The colonel patted Rodney on the arm and flashed him one of those smiles that made you feel like the sun was shining just on you. Rodney had noticed that Sheppard had a tendency to rely on that laidback charm of his to make people feel special. He'd also noticed how frequently it worked, on just about everyone on the base, top or sub. Even Carson, who was one of the most quietly confident tops Rodney had ever met, seemed to melt under the force of one of the colonel's smiles. Rodney wasn't sure what it was about the man, or why people reacted that way, but, basking in the glow of that smile, he had to admit that he knew how they felt. It also annoyed him. He always distrusted easy charm - maybe because it was something that was so alien to his own make up that he felt a stab of envy for those who did have it.

Three hours later, Rodney found himself sitting with his back to a wall on an alien planet, holding something that was entirely unfamiliar to him - a P-90. He knew how to fire the damn thing, but he'd never had to carry one into combat before and it felt heavy and strange on his arm. He had memorised Sheppard's plan to lure the Wraith to the ruined temple and capture one of them using tasers, but even so, he kept going over and over it in his head, anxious not to put a foot wrong, and place anyone on the team in danger. Colonel Sheppard was sitting beside him, gazing at him.

"You okay? You seem nervous," the colonel said. Rodney took a deep breath and kept his eyes fixed on the gun.

"No. I'm a part of this team. I'm doing this," he said, more firmly than he felt.

"Yes, you are. I just said you seemed nervous." Sheppard sat there calmly, which Rodney found both supportive and irritating at the same time.

"Oh, really. I thought you said, 'Rodney, you don't have to do this'," he snapped.

Sheppard grinned. "Yes you do," he said, inclining his head.

"Damn right I do," Rodney muttered, because he was on the *team* and that meant more to him than just about anything else that had happened since they arrived in Atlantis and he really didn't want to screw it up.

"You won't," Sheppard said.

"What?" Rodney frowned at him.

"Screw it up - that's what you're thinking isn't it?"

"Did I say that out loud?" Rodney panicked. Sheppard laughed.

"Nope - but you didn't have to. Just about everything you're thinking shows up in your eyes. Remind me to play poker with you some day."

"I'm lousy at poker," Rodney grumbled.

"I rest my case," Sheppard grinned. Then his mood changed, abruptly. "Okay, Rodney - we're nearly ready to go. You can do this - remember that. I wouldn't have put you on this team if I didn't believe it, either. Just stick with me, okay, and do what I tell you."

The next few minutes whizzed by in a blur of action. They were, perhaps, the most terrifying few minutes of Rodney's life, and yet, conversely, the most exciting. Rodney obeyed the colonel to the letter - he got up when Sheppard shouted the command, fired at the attacking wraith, then followed the colonel out into the ruined temple. They surrounded the stricken wraith, and on the colonel's command Rodney drew his taser and fired into the creature. Sheppard knelt down beside it and then got to his feet, yelling.

"It's got a self destruct! Take cover!" He grabbed Rodney's arm and the two of them ran away from the wraith - just in time as a few seconds later there was a loud explosion and Rodney felt himself flying through the air. He landed on the ground with a whumph, and then covered his head as chunks of what looked suspiciously like dead wraith fell on top of him. When it finally stopped raining wraith, Rodney looked around to find Sheppard lying next to him, gazing at him.

"You okay?" The colonel's eyes held a genuine concern and Rodney nodded, feeling shaky but exhilarated.

"I'm fine. This - this is fun for me," he croaked. Sheppard grinned at his bravado, and they both got to their feet. Rodney noticed that the colonel was clutching a stunner that he must have picked up from the recently deceased wraith but then all hell broke loose once more as Sheppard saw Teyla, lying on her back across the field with a wraith on top of her, his hand raised, just about to feed. The colonel took off at the speed of light, and Rodney watched as he took aim and felled the wraith with the stunner, just a split second before it fed on Teyla.

Try as he might not to be impressed by Colonel Sheppard, Rodney did have to concede that in the field the man seemed to know what he was doing. This whole adventure had been so exciting that he didn't even want to return to Atlantis, although he was looking forward to boasting about the mission to Radek.

Sheppard secured their prisoner in a cell in the lower reaches of the city, and then they all attended a debriefing. Rodney found himself humming as he entered the room - today had been *good* - one of the first really good days he'd had since arriving here. It felt great to be part of a team, and a valuable part at that. He'd held his own with all the leaping around and gun firing, and people were beginning to see how important he was to this whole expedition and that felt fantastic.

He thought nothing could spoil his good mood but that changed the minute he got into the meeting room to find Bates sitting there.

"What's he doing here?" Rodney demanded, unable to even feign politeness.

"Sergeant Bates has been put in charge of the prisoner," Elizabeth replied, looking surprised by his tone. "So he needs to be involved in any briefings about him."

"Why - he wasn't on the damn mission," Rodney growled. Colonel Sheppard placed a hand on his shoulder, and guided him firmly towards a chair.

"Everyone here? Then we should begin," he said, ignoring Rodney's angry glare.

"I take it everything went smoothly?" Elizabeth asked, casting a furtive glance in Rodney's direction.

"And nobody screwed up?" Bates looked at Rodney as he said that.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Rodney bristled immediately.

"Just that I'm not convinced of the wisdom of taking non-military personnel on military missions," Bates told him. "It's different if the mission is scientific but this one wasn't. You went out there to capture a wraith - no need for anyone other than military personnel."

Rodney glared at him. Damn Bates for this - going offworld as part of Sheppard's team was the one bright thing in his life right now, and damn it if the sergeant wasn't trying to take it away from him by planting these doubts in both Elizabeth's and Sheppard's minds.

"It was my call to take Dr McKay along with us," Colonel Sheppard replied, giving Bates a sharp look. "Are you questioning my military decisions, Sergeant?"

"No, sir!" Bates replied. "Just pointing out my reservations, sir, particularly in the case of Dr McKay. He has no formal training and, frankly, I think we all feel his judgement has been in question of late. It strikes me that he's a risky man to have by your side while he's behaving in such an...unpredictable way."

Rodney didn't make a conscious decision about what happened next - his emotions just took over. All his pent-up anger and frustration spilled out, and he found himself launching himself across the table towards Bates, screaming abuse at him as he went. Bates didn't even move, he just sat there as Rodney took a swing at him. Rodney felt the satisfying crunch of flesh under fist, and then he was being dragged backwards by Colonel Sheppard's strong arms, and he was still fighting, still wriggling to be free, yelling something incoherently the entire time.

"Pipe down," Sheppard hissed into his ear. "This is bad enough already." Rodney was beyond reasoning though - he was too angry. He struggled, pointlessly, in Sheppard's arms, and all the time he was aware of Bates sitting there, arms folded, a bruise rising on the side of his jaw…and a smug little smile curving at the corners of his lips. Damn it he'd planned this! He'd known how Rodney would react…and Rodney had fallen straight into the trap, like an idiot.

Sheppard propelled him over to the door so fast that Rodney's feet barely touched the ground. Then he released him, but only in order to grab the back of his neck and push him along the hallway to Elizabeth's office. He half-pushed, half-threw the still wriggling scientist inside, then shut the door and stood in front of it, glaring at Rodney. Rodney glared back at him, his entire body taut with fury.

"You just proved his point for him," Sheppard said. "Do you understand that, McKay?"

"Yes I damn well understand that!" Rodney yelled at him. "He was goading me. This was what he wanted."

"Why?" Sheppard asked. "Why would he want this? Look, I thought I took care of this a few weeks ago. I made it very clear to him, and to his friends, that they were to treat you with respect. Was he backsliding on that, McKay? Because if he was then I will deal with him."

Rodney paused, gazing at Sheppard warily. He still wasn't entirely sure he trusted the man, and the honest truth was that Bates wasn't treating him the way he had before. He wasn't constantly goading and baiting him - in fact, Rodney wished he *was* as that had been easier to handle, plates of jello notwithstanding. But no, now Bates was pursuing him, trying to force him into subbing for him - and how did he tell Sheppard *that*?

"McKay?" Sheppard asked.

"No." Rodney felt his mouth settle into a straight line, and he pushed up his chin defiantly. He was an unattached submissive, and he couldn't see a top like Sheppard being remotely interested in his problems shaking off an unwanted suitor. The man would just laugh at him and tell him to figure it out for himself. He was hardly a kid after all.

"How about the other marines - have any of them been taunting you?" Sheppard asked.

"No." Rodney shook his head again. They hadn't, either - whatever it was Sheppard had done to them that day in the punishment room had definitely worked. The military boys had all been suspiciously friendly towards him ever since - or else gave him a wide berth. One of them, that blond kid, Hicks, had even come up to him and muttered a shame-faced apology.

"Then, right now, Bates's concerns seem to be justified," Sheppard said.

"Are you taking me off the team?" Rodney asked, his heart beating too fast, because this was all he cared about - he didn't give a damn about anything else.

"No." Sheppard rocked back on his heels. "But if there's something you're not telling me I'll be pretty pissed off."

At that moment the door opened, and Elizabeth swept into the office. Rodney steeled himself - but she didn't look angry. She just looked concerned.

"Colonel Sheppard - would you excuse us please," she said, and Sheppard nodded, and swept a little bow at her before retreating. Rodney rolled his eyes. Honestly, that man could be ridiculously old-fashioned. Who bowed towards the highest ranked leader these days? It was quaint - and also stupid. He wondered whether Sheppard would bow to *him* if he was the one running this expedition, and he found he liked the idea.

"Rodney - what's going on?" Elizabeth asked, seating herself at her desk. Rodney sighed.

"Just order the punishment and have done with," he said, striding towards the door. "I'm kind of getting used to it anyway."

"Hold it, Dr McKay," she said, in a voice of pure steel. He hesitated, one hand reaching out towards the door, but this was *Elizabeth* and he wasn't yet so far gone that he'd ignore her when she was talking to him. So he turned. "Sit down, Rodney," she said, in a softer voice.

"I don't have anything to say," he muttered.

"I said, sit down," she repeated. He took a deep breath, and then did what she commanded. Lady Elizabeth Weir wasn't a widely respected diplomat and well regarded top for nothing, and he'd heard only good things about her from the subs she'd played with over the years. There had been a time when he'd have happily subbed to her himself, but she had never shown any interest in him in that way, and he had always known he never stood a chance when there were so many other subs vying for her attention.

"Rodney, you're one of the most senior and respected members of this expedition," she told him quietly. "Yet, since we've been here, you're the only one I've had to punish. I've known you for a few years and this isn't like you, Rodney. Is something troubling you?"

"You mean apart from the widespread lack of regard in which I'm held by just about everyone on this base?" he snapped. She shook her head.

"That isn't true. Your own team speak very highly of you, and everyone knows that we wouldn't even have got this far if it wasn't for you."

"Hah," Rodney sulked, unable to find an answer for that.

"I can't help you if you won't tell me what's wrong," she said, those warm hazel eyes of hers full of concern. Rodney gazed at her helplessly. He had no idea what to say. It wasn't just Bates that was the problem, it was everything, and he couldn't even sort it all out in his own mind. First there had been that terrible estrangement from Jeannie. He'd tried his best to take care of her when their parents had been killed, and she'd pretty much thrown it in his face - to his mind at least - and while he did concede that there were two sides to every story, as far as he was concerned she was just plain in the wrong. Then there was his own dismal sex life, or lack thereof, and his inability to connect with people. Bates was just the latest in a long line of problems that Rodney had no way of solving. And Rodney was a problem-solver. That was what he did, every day of his working life, but technology was simple and people were complicated, and it frustrated him beyond belief that he was so effortlessly able to find all the answers to any problems he had with the former and none at all to the latter.

"Nothing's wrong," he told her softly, because everything was wrong and he had no idea where to begin explaining it to her. Her expression hardened.

"Needless to say, Bates is demanding that I punish you," she told him.

"Oh, I'm sure." Rodney shrugged. "Not much you can do is there?"

She took a deep breath. "There were witnesses, it was unprovoked," she agreed. Rodney remembered being held over a workstation, his arm shoved up his back, his assailant's erection digging into his ass, and mused on this new definition of 'unprovoked', but Elizabeth didn't know about that - and, if it came down to witnesses, nobody had seen it, either. Even Radek had been just a couple of minutes too late. "However," Elizabeth continued, "I'm going to ignore that. I'm going to go out on a limb for you, Rodney. I'm not going to punish you - I'm giving you a free pass, just this once. However…you do one more thing in the next week that makes me regret this decision, and you'll find yourself staring at the floor of the punishment room before you can even draw breath. Understood?"

Rodney gazed at her. She was trying to help, in her own way, but none of it was any use. Nothing was any damn use right now.

"Understood," he told her, in a low tone. He didn't want to be in her debt. He didn't want to be condescended to, and patronised. He got up and walked towards the door.

"Is there something you want to tell me about Bates?" Elizabeth asked. "A lot of your confrontations seem to be with him."

Rodney didn't even falter. "No," he said, not turning around. "There is absolutely nothing I want to tell you about Bates." And that was pretty much the truth. Rodney thought he'd rather curl up and die than tell the leader of their expedition that he couldn't handle a man so much less smart than himself that he could have belonged to different species. His pride wouldn't allow it. So he just slammed his hand against the door panel and left, without looking back.

It had, on reflection, been one of the best days and worst days of his life, Rodney thought to himself as he retreated to his quarters to lick his wounds. He took a shower and leaned back under the warm water, trying to relax muscles that were aching through sudden use after years of idleness. He remembered the sheer exhilaration of being out in the field beside Colonel Sheppard, of running alongside the man, holding a P-90 and proving to everyone that Sheppard had done the right thing by putting him on his team. He'd done well too - he thought he'd seen a kind of respect in Sheppard's eyes, and Rodney knew he wasn't immune to the colonel's charm. Like everyone else on this base, he wanted Sheppard to think well of him, wanted to earn a word of praise from the laid-back colonel, or experience another one of those conspiratorial smiles. Sheppard had a way of making you feel complicit with him, as if you and he shared some kind of a special secret, and there was something intoxicating about that feeling. Once you'd tasted it, you wanted to keep on tasting it. Now though…now Rodney was pretty sure he'd lost any respect the colonel had for him. He remembered the feel of Sheppard's taut, angry body as he'd manhandled him out of the meeting room, remembered the feel of his hand on the back of his neck, and the way he'd thrown him into Elizabeth's office. Sheppard had said he wouldn't pull him from the team but Rodney was sure that the colonel had to be regretting his decision to pick him in the first place.

Rodney got out of the shower and dried himself, and then dressed himself in boxers and a tee shirt before crawling into bed. He lay there, looking up at the ceiling blankly. He didn't expect to sleep - he'd been experiencing insomnia for weeks now, to the point where he'd almost gone to Carson for some medication, but he hadn't wanted to face Carson's concerned blue eyes and the endless questions he knew would result, so he suffered in silence - something that went entirely against the grain.

Rodney lay there for a few hours, getting no sleep whatsoever, and in the end he gave up, got dressed, and went back to his beloved lab. At least here he could lose himself in his work. He was still there, unshaven and bad-tempered through lack of sleep, when his staff arrived the next morning. They took one look at him and gave him a wide berth, clearly sensing his mood. Rodney couldn't even be bothered to attend the senior staff meeting at ten a.m. and ignored all of Elizabeth's radioed requests that he get himself up to the meeting room, pronto. He also ignored her email requesting an inventory of all the Ancient technology they'd thus far discovered, because he had more important things to do than sit around making lists for god's sake!

Sheppard dropped by the lab a few hours later and leaned casually on a monitor.

"So…Elizabeth's looking for you," he said.

"I'm not hard to find," Rodney replied, not taking his eyes off his work.

"Yeah…only I think she thinks you should go to her, and not the other way around."

"Well, I'm busy." Rodney turned to another work station and punched in an algorithm, pausing only to deliver a tirade at Miko for getting in his way. Sheppard winced.

"Bates has been to see her," Sheppard said quietly.

"Has he?" Rodney didn't even bother to feign an interest in that statement.

"So you might not want to piss her off right now, seeing as how she's basically covering your ass for you."

"I really don't give a damn," Rodney replied with an air of total indifference. "Look, Colonel, I'm sure you mean well but I'm not interested. The way I see it, we're stuck out here, and I'm the best chance any of you have of getting home. So Elizabeth can jump up and down all she likes, but she can't fire me, and she can't demote me - at least not without putting the entire expedition in danger. All I ask is that people leave me alone to get on with my work, and then everyone will be happy."

"Don't count on it," Sheppard replied. "Look, Rodney, what is this? Do you enjoy getting into this much trouble?"

Rodney raised his head and actually looked at Sheppard for the first time since the man had entered the lab. Sheppard's hazel eyes were curious, and the man looked genuinely concerned. "It's an interesting question," Rodney mused. "Honestly? It's been kind of fun." He grinned.

"Because you don't care any more?" Sheppard leaned forward. "Is that it? Don't you even care about the consequences?"

"I do care about the consequences, yes," Rodney agreed, nodding, because he hated the thought of making another visit to the punishment room, but he was so busy pushing a self- destruct button right now that not even that was sufficient to stop him careening along on his current rebellious path. "But somehow…I just don't care enough."

Sheppard gazed at him steadily. "Go and see her, Rodney," he advised. Rodney shrugged.

"I don't think I will," he replied, and then he set about blowing up a small, pre-prepared corner of the lab in a controlled experiment which made Sheppard jump and reach for his gun on instinct. Rodney grinned. It had definitely been kind of fun, and he wasn't ready for it to end just yet.

Elizabeth gave him a couple of days before sending two armed guards to escort him to her office. She gazed at him steadily, her eyes flickering over his stubbled chin and admittedly wayward hair. Rodney gazed back at her, tilting his chin forward defiantly.

"Do you have that inventory I asked for?" she requested.

"I don't, no."

"Do you have an explanation for not having it?"

"You mean apart from the fact that it's a total waste of my time and mental energy? 'Fraid not." He shrugged, in a maddeningly offhand manner, entirely aware of how unhelpful he was being.

"Do you have an explanation for missing senior staff meetings?"

"I was busy."

"Do you have a *good* explanation for missing senior staff meetings?"

"I was *very* busy?" He folded his arms and stared at her.

She took a deep breath, clearly struggling to keep her cool. "Bates wants to press charges," she said at last.

"Of course he does. He's Bates." Rodney shrugged again.

"You know, I'm all out of reasons for why I should cover for you, Rodney," she said tersely, although he thought he saw a hint of hurt in her eyes and he regretted that, he honestly did. "Report to the punishment room at ten a.m. tomorrow - twelve strokes this time. You can go now."

"Thank you." He inclined his head in mock gratitude and turned to leave. His punishments seemed to increase incrementally by two each time which he supposed reflected her escalating irritation with him. Rodney didn't even think about the forthcoming punishment - he just went back to his lab, humming to himself, finger still firmly pressed on that self-destruct.


	4. Escalation

Rodney's first visitor the following day was Sergeant Bates. The man arrived early, while Rodney was the only one in the lab.

"I have a proposition for you," Bates said, smiling at him.

Rodney raised an eyebrow. "Another one? Because I responded so well to the last one," he mocked, suddenly finding that he'd gone beyond caring at some point.

"You'll like this one. Come and sub for me, Rodney…"

"If I'm not very much mistaken that *is* the last proposition," Rodney interrupted. "Not even cunningly disguised as a new proposition."

"Come and sub for me and I'll drop the charges," Bates said. Rodney stared at him and then burst out laughing.

"Oh, this is good. Let me get this straight, knucklebrain. You're saying that if I agree to be your sub, with all the many attractions that offers, not least, as I recall, the fact you promised to tan my ass, then you'll get me out of…oh, yes, having my ass tanned. Seems like a zero sum equation to me, pinhead."

"Just offering." Bates grinned. "You'll give in eventually, Rodney."

"What makes you assume that?"

"Because I'll make your life a misery until you do. See you later. Around ten a.m. I believe." Bates gave him a mock salute and then left.

Rodney gazed after him, sightlessly. Maybe Bates was right. In fact, maybe it would be easier to just give in. It would certainly be less wearying - all he had to do was say 'yes' and his current misery would come to an end. Of course he'd be throwing himself into the path of a new kind of misery but honestly, Rodney wasn't sure he could bring himself to care. All the same, some innate obstinacy that went soul-deep with him kicked in. If he gave in now then Bates would win and besides, he honestly thought he might gag just at the *thought* of kneeling in front of the sergeant, and taking the man's cock in his mouth, so the reality didn't bear thinking about.

Rodney received his second visitor at five minutes to ten. He was just leaving the lab on his way to the punishment room and found Colonel Sheppard loitering outside. He ignored him, but Sheppard fell into step beside him as he walked.

"Can I help you, Colonel?" he asked.

"Just thought you might want company," Sheppard replied.

"Not really, no," Rodney said curtly.

"Well, you've got it anyway."

Rodney sighed.

"Elizabeth did try and help you out of this one you know," Sheppard told him as they walked.

"Yes. I do." Rodney nodded.

"Why didn't you let her help you?"

"Because it doesn't matter," Rodney shrugged, getting into the transporter. "None of it matters, Colonel." Sheppard got in beside him and leaned back against the wall.

"I think it does. I think that's the problem. I think it really matters. I think it matters so much that it hurts," he said softly.

Rodney blinked. Did it? He felt so numb inside that he couldn't tell any more. The door opened, and he got out without saying a word and strode along the hallway towards the open door at the end. His stomach contracted as he got closer. Sheppard was right - it did hurt. It hurt just as much this time as it had the first time, and it hurt deep inside. Rodney shoved the sensation down, searching again for the numbness. They reached the door, and Sheppard paused.

"Coming in to enjoy the day's entertainment, Colonel?" Rodney asked, in a mocking tone. Sheppard shook his head.

"Not this time," he replied softly.

"I'm surprised. You watched the previous times," Rodney spat at him, feeling another wave of pain slice through him, raw and bitter. "I saw you."

"I know, but not this time," Sheppard said firmly.

"Why not?"

"Because now you're on my team." Sheppard patted his arm. Rodney felt something break inside, and the numbness fell away. He gazed at Sheppard blindly. Damn the man for making him care about what happened to him *now*, right when he needed not to care. "I'll be waiting," Sheppard told him, and then he stood up straight, outside the door, almost as if guarding it. Rodney didn't have a clue what this all meant, and he didn't have time to think about it, because it was ten a.m. and he'd watched enough bad movies to know what happened if you didn't turn up for a punishment on time.

Carson called it the bearpit, and Rodney had developed a keen appreciation of what the doctor meant by that now. He'd never been remotely interested in public punishments, one way or the other, before he'd been subjected to them. They simply were, like coffee or taxes - they existed, but, unlike coffee or taxes, they had never impinged on his everyday world before. He'd only ever been to one - when his mom had insisted that he and his little sister accompany her to watch a local teacher being punished for drunk driving, something she had a thing about but only, Rodney suspected, because she was secretly hoping his father would one day be up on the same charge. Rodney had found the whole thing boring, and had spent the time reading a text book on particle physics and writing emphatic messages in the margins next to all the bits that were wrong. Jeannie, on the other hand, had been so freaked out by it that Rodney had been forced to take her to the park and buy her an ice cream afterwards to calm her down. His mom, as usual, hadn't taken any responsibility at all, and as she was able to withstand Jeannie's sobbing better than Rodney she just shut herself in her room until Rodney dealt with it, and didn't emerge until he brought a much happier Jeannie home from the park, chin still smeared with chocolate sauce.

Rodney had never thought that he'd one day be in the same situation as that disgraced teacher. As a sub, he was happy to give his body to a top of his own choosing, for whatever pre-arranged and carefully negotiated erotic pleasure appealed to them both, but there was nothing erotic about being bent over and beaten by one of your own subordinates in front of a crowd of jeering marines and scientists from the *botany* department for god's sake! Rodney glared at them all as he entered the room but that just seemed to amuse the marines who laughed out loud at him. Now he wished Sheppard *was* in the room, because the mood was uglier than it had ever been before, and he sensed that was because the colonel wasn't there to calm them all down with one raised eyebrow, or a wry, warning, clearing of his throat.

Peter was standing by the frame, looking kind of anxious, clearly freaked out by the mood in the room. Rodney took a deep breath, and then walked over to him.

"Could we dispense with the whole reading me my rights thing?" he asked. "Because I've heard it twice now, and I could actually recite it back to you, and I have three different coupling systems to recalibrate by lunchtime and I'd really rather waste as little time as possible on this nonsense."

"Well…okay," Peter shrugged. "Just…I'm supposed to so if you're asked you'll have to say I did."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered. He glanced up, and saw Elizabeth sitting, pale and remote, right at the back as usual. Her face was set in a cool mask that gave nothing away but her eyes met his and once again he felt a pang as he saw the hurt in them. He wished he could do things differently, but right now he wasn't entirely sure he could change the way he was behaving.

Rodney moved his hands to his pants and undid them, then stepped over to the frame and leaned forward. Only when he was in position did he yank them, and his boxers, down to just beneath his ass - he wasn't going to give the bastards watching the satisfaction of catching a glimpse of bare flesh, although some of them would see his face clearly enough and that was possibly even worse. Rodney turned his face to one side, and as he did so he caught sight of Bates, sitting right slap bang in the middle of the front row. The sergeant wasn't joining in the catcalls, and he wasn't smiling, either - instead, there was a grim, sickly kind of expression on his face, and Rodney felt a shudder run through his body as he realised that the sergeant was enjoying this in an entirely different way. Now Rodney missed Sheppard even more - he hadn't been consciously aware of it before, but somehow he'd always caught the colonel's hazel-eyed gaze during previous punishments, and he didn't know why but that had anchored him. Now he felt all at sea. He closed his eyes to shut out the queasy feeling rising in his stomach.

The first swat landed a split second later and his eyes flashed open, despite his best efforts to give nothing away. Rodney didn't mind a good, erotic spanking, and one of his tops had enjoyed hurting him way beyond that, for her own amusement, but at least he'd had a choice about that, and could stop it with a word. This wasn't like that. He didn't have a choice about this - this was simply designed to hurt - and it did. It wasn't delivered with love and affection by someone he trusted and was intimate with – it was meant to punish, plain and simple. Rodney bit on his lip as the second blow fell, and he clutched the handles on the frame tightly, feeling his palms start to sweat. He didn't mean to, but he found himself seeking out Bates's face in the audience again. Bates had an intent expression in his eyes, and he was barely blinking as he drank in Rodney's misery.

Rodney supposed he should be grateful that Elizabeth had only ordered the paddle - she had a whole array of implements at her disposal, ranging from the paddle to the cane to - and Rodney dreaded the thought of anyone ever being on the receiving end of it - the bullwhip. But right now, he didn't feel particularly grateful. Twelve strokes suddenly stretched out into eternity, and he wondered what would happen if he tried to walk out. The frame had restraints but they had paid him the courtesy of not using them. Elizabeth would presumably just send armed guards after him to drag him back and make him take his punishment if he tried to escape. Rodney knew that he wouldn't walk out in any case. On some level, he felt he deserved his punishment - not for hitting Bates but for the way he'd behaved towards Elizabeth, and, while he would never apologise to her in person, he could take this - he had pretty much walked into it head first after all.

Eight swats in, and his ass hurt more than he wanted to think about. He could hear Peter grunting with the force of each stroke and he was struggling to remain silent but he wouldn't give his audience the satisfaction of a reaction. He remained where he was, as still as he could hold himself, gaze averted, just resting there like a dead fish on a slab. He was screaming inside though - yelling in outrage and pain. He had always been a noisy sub, and he enjoyed it when a top took him to places that finally made him shut up, accepting whatever was being done to him, totally under the spell of a sexually dominant partner, but staying silent in these circumstances was much harder. Rodney bit back a howl as Peter delivered the ninth stroke. Three more…three more. He saw Bates shift in his chair, his hand resting on his groin, rubbing there surreptitiously, and it was all he could do to swallow down the bile that rose immediately in the back of his throat. He swore, there and then, his mind hazy with pain, that he'd get his own back on the sergeant somehow.

The final strokes hurt more than he'd been expecting - he guessed he was nearing the limit of what his body could comfortably tolerate, and he knew that alone should be a warning to him not to push Elizabeth any more, but somehow, even knowing that, he doubted he would be able to stop and take himself off his current path of self-destruction.

Then, finally, it was over. Rodney took a deep breath, and pushed himself away from the frame. His hands were shaking as he pulled up his pants and fastened them, and although he wanted to get out of there as fast as he could, his legs felt like lead and he wasn't physically able to bounce out of the room the way he had on the previous two occasions. He muttered something to Peter - he had no idea what, but it wasn't Grodin's fault that he'd pulled the short straw and got to be Elizabeth's lackey on this, and then he walked slowly towards the door, surprised by how shaky he felt. He got to the door, face flushed from pain and humiliation, and was unaccountably relieved to find Sheppard still standing there, still in the same position, hands behind his back.

"Okay?" Sheppard turned as he heard the door open, raising an eyebrow.

"What do you think?" Rodney growled, pushing past him. His legs still weren't working very well, and his mind felt fuzzy.

"Whoa!" Sheppard reached out a hand and cupped his elbow, holding him steady. Rodney wanted to wave him away but right now he wasn't sure he'd stay upright if he did that, so he leaned into the colonel's strong, lean body and allowed the man to help him down the hallway and into the transporter.

"Looks like it was bad," Sheppard commented. Rodney closed his eyes and leaned back against the wall. He wasn't sure why he was feeling like this - he'd only taken two more swats than previously and he'd been fine then. Now he felt as if he was seasick, and everything was moving around him, making him unsteady on his feet. The transporter door opened and Sheppard put a hand under his elbow again. Rodney squinted at the hallway.

"This isn't the way to my lab," he said.

"No. It's the way to the infirmary."

"Well, I don't want to *go* to the infirmary," Rodney snapped. "I want to go to my lab."

"I don't care," Sheppard said grimly. "We're going to the infirmary."

Rodney considered arguing but he really didn't have the energy, and besides, Sheppard had that same look in his eyes that he got when he was out in the field, facing down wraith. The one that said he was in charge and nobody better argue. Usually he was so laidback that Rodney was surprised the military had picked him for a command post, but having seen the man in times of crisis he was beginning to understand that there was more to him than was usually evident on that ironic, unruffled surface.

They walked, unsteadily, down the hallway to the infirmary, and by the time they got there Rodney was feeling so ill he didn't even mind when Sheppard picked up his arm and draped it over his shoulder, then put his own arm around Rodney's waist and hauled him the rest of the way.

He was only dimly aware of Carson getting to his feet, a surprised look on his face as Sheppard carried him into the infirmary.

"My god what's happened to him? Put him on the bed," Carson ordered. "Rodney? Stay with us."

"Ow, ow, ow!" Rodney yelped as Sheppard sat him down on one of the beds, making his sore ass blaze with pain.

"Go easy, man," Carson chided, turning Rodney more comfortably onto his side. "Was it that bad?" He glanced at Sheppard.

"I don't know - I was waiting for him outside," the colonel said, spreading his hands. "But I don't think it's the punishment that did this. He was looking pretty pale beforehand."

"Ah. I think I have an inkling…" Carson's blue eyes swam into view. "Rodney - when did you last eat anything, son?" he asked.

Rodney tried to think about it. "No idea," he croaked at last, and even ill as he was, he knew how weird that was. He *always* knew when he'd last eaten. His life revolved around food, coffee and work to the exclusion of just about everything else.

"Damnit, Rodney. You know what happens when you go too long without food," Carson scolded, pushing Sheppard out of the way and going over to his desk.

"A power bar? You're giving him a power bar?" Sheppard asked incredulously, as Carson returned and pushed something sweet and crumbly into his mouth.

"Aye. He's hypoglycaemic - a wee taste of a power bar will help him more than any medicine," Carson grinned. His hand came down on Rodney's shoulder, and he stroked gently. "This isn't like you, Rodney," he murmured. "Not remembering to eat."

"He is looking a bit thin," Sheppard commented. Rodney tried to think about that. He was sure he *wasn't*. Not that he'd looked in a mirror lately, but he was sure he was still as robust and well built as ever.

"Aye. I'd noticed that too," Carson said. Rodney frowned and sat up, propping himself up sideways on one arm so he wouldn't have to put too much weight on his sore ass.

"Don't talk about me as if I'm not here," he snapped. Carson glanced at Sheppard and grinned.

"See - I told you the power bar would do the trick," he said.

"It's a miracle," Sheppard laughed.

"Well, if you're both done, I have work to do," Rodney muttered, swinging his legs over the side of the bed. Carson put a hand on his shoulder.

"Och, I don't think so, do you, laddie?" he said, shaking his head ruefully. Rodney sighed - Carson was a total martinet in the infirmary so he had doubted he'd get out that easily but even so, he decided to push his luck.

"I'm fine - I'll go eat something and then get to work. Don't make a fuss, Carson," he snapped. "Sheppard - tell him. I'm perfectly able to get back to work."

Sheppard shook his head, casting a sideways glance at the doctor as he did so. "You're arguing with Carson? On his own turf? Good luck, buddy but you're on your own with that one."

Carson gave a little gurgle of laughter at that. "Come now, Rodney. Now I've got you here, I might as well give you a proper check up. I've noticed you've been looking tired lately. Are you sleeping well?"

Rodney bit on his lip and glanced at Sheppard. If he admitted to Carson about his insomnia then the colonel might take him off the team and he didn't want that. He was already annoyed about the colonel finding out he was hypoglycaemic. The man must be thinking what a total liability he was in the field.

"I'm fine," he growled. Carson's blue eyes saw right through him.

"Well, you can stay here and keep me company for the rest of the day in any case," he said firmly. "I want to do some blood work on you and I'm going to get one of the nurses to run to the mess hall and bring you back a proper meal. You can eat it while I watch just so I can be certain you won't collapse again. Then you can lie down in here this afternoon and take a nap under my supervision."

"I'm not tired," Rodney complained.

"I don't care." Carson grinned sweetly. "Come now, Rodney - I'm having a dull day and it'll be nice for me to have a patient to cluck over."

"You don't cluck. You terrorise," Rodney scowled.

Sheppard grinned at him. "Man you like living on the edge. You know, Rodney, you do work pretty hard, and you could do with some down time. I'll drop by your lab and let Radek know he's in charge for the rest of the day."

"No…oh for god's sake," Rodney growled, as Sheppard patted his arm and then, with a cheery grin at Carson, he left the infirmary. Rodney gazed after him forlornly. There had been something rather comforting about having Sheppard's tall, commanding presence by his side and he found he missed him. He was suddenly aware that Carson's blue eyes were fixed on him, with an assessing look.

"What?" Rodney snapped.

"Nothing." Carson gave him a gentle little smile. "I'll go and get you something to change into and then I'm going to do a proper examination, whether you like it or not. I want to check to see if there's any damage after this morning."

Rodney flushed and gazed at his feet.

"You've got friends you know, Rodney," Carson told him softly, hovering close by, his hand reaching out to stroke Rodney's shoulder again. "Friends who care if you don't eat, and you can't sleep, and you keep getting into trouble. If there's anything bothering you - you know you can tell me, don't you?"

Rodney looked up, his throat suddenly feeling dry, as if he was trying to swallow uphill.

"You're right," he muttered at last. "I do feel kind of tired." And he leaned back on the bed, put his head down, and buried his face in the pillow so he wouldn't have to look into Carson's kind eyes any more.

 

~*~

 

John walked along to the lab, and went over to where Radek was working. The Czech scientist looked up, startled, and pushed his glasses further up his nose, in a familiar, nervous gesture.

"I just wanted to tell you that you're in charge for the day," John told him.

"Why? What have you done with Rodney?" Radek squeaked, looking concerned.

"He's in the infirmary," John told him. Radek gave a low hiss, and muttered something in Czech that even someone like John, with zero knowledge of the language, knew had to be an expletive. "Is there a problem?" he asked, frowning.

"No, no…no problem except one must ask why you are all so determined to ruin one of the finest minds of his generation with all this…." He spat out a word that John didn't recognise and John noticed that some of the people in the room were listening in on their conversation.

"Do you have a few minutes?" he asked. "Maybe we could go to the mess hall and grab a donut?" He had noticed that donuts seemed to be a staple food for the scientists. Radek shrugged, and they retired to the privacy of the empty mess hall.

"I am not saying he is easy to work for - he is not," Radek said, as he sat down at a table. John brought over the donuts and coffee, and sat facing him. "But genius is not without its price. He is short-tempered, and he expects more from us than I think we are capable of - or maybe it is just his way of coaxing brilliance from us…whatever it is, I have achieved more working with him for one year than I did in my life before."

"Well that's good," John said, sipping on his coffee and gazing at the scientist thoughtfully. "Do all the other members of his staff feel the same way? I've noticed that none of them attend his punishments."

"We would not!" Radek looked outraged at the idea. "When you have worked with him you cannot but respect his mind - we have no desire to witness what passes for justice out here."

"You disagree with Elizabeth's decisions to punish him?" John asked, frowning. Radek sighed.

"My Lady Elizabeth is very wise, and I respect her very much, but in this instance, yes, I disagree with her, but then I am always at odds with the authorities on this issue." He gave a wan smile. "I was a political activist in Czechoslovakia, before the war," he murmured. "I underwent many such punishments myself."

"You're a radical," John said, sitting back in his chair and gazing at Radek thoughtfully. Radek grinned.

"I am, yes," he agreed, and then his smile faded, and he looked anxious again. "But how is Rodney? You said he was in the infirmary?"

"He's fine - apparently he just forgot to eat." John shrugged.

"Rodney forgot to eat? It's surely impossible." Radek shook his head ruefully. "I have never known this to happen," he told John, with a glint in his eye. John had a sudden sense of how well Radek knew Rodney, and for a second he felt a wave of resentment towards the scientist.

"Are you a top, Radek?" he asked bluntly.

"What?" Radek pushed his glasses nervously up his nose again. "What business is this of yours?"

It was a good question, and John struggled to find an answer. "I just wondered. You seemed worried about Rodney, so I thought…."

"No. No, no, no…do not go there, Colonel," Radek interrupted him, looking kind of angry. "I do not top."

"Oh. Right." John leaned back again, feeling unaccountably relieved.

"I do not sub, either," Radek said.

John frowned. "You switch?"

"No." Radek looked uncomfortable. "I do not do any of these things - they do not appeal to me. I identify as non-dynamic."

"Really?" John was a little shocked but he did his best to hide it.

"Also…I am not interested in Rodney in that way because he is a man."

John gazed at him blankly and Radek flushed an even deeper shade of red. He leaned forwards and spoke in a whisper.

"I am monosexual."

John did his best to keep his face non-judgemental because really it was no business of his if Radek only wanted to sleep with women, and he was cool with it in any case. He'd never actually met any monosexuals but there was quite a strong monosexual movement that had gained acceptance in the past few years.

"You're mono?" he grinned. "Honestly, Radek, that's not as big a deal as it was a few years ago."

"No. But even so." Radek shrugged. "I do not speak of it often - it has no bearing on my work and I have encountered prejudice so I prefer to keep my private life private."

"Mono *and* non-dynamic? Man, you're pervy!" John laughed. "Where the hell do you go to *meet* people, Radek?"

"There are clubs," Radek shrugged. "It is easier now than it used to be, now that more people are prepared to admit that they do not identify in the traditional way, with dominant or submissive inclinations."

"Are there any others on Atlantis?" John asked, curious. Radek shrugged.

"Not many, but there are always some. I thought to ask Elizabeth for permission to start a little newsletter, so that we could be open about our preferences."

"Well I think that's a great idea." John nodded. "And I promise you that I'll help you handle any negativity that you might encounter. I can't stand that kind of crap. What you do in the bedroom is your own affair. It's not for me but I don't see what the hell business it is of mine."

Radek smiled, and looked more relaxed than he had thus far.

"You work closely with Rodney," John said, returning to the original topic of conversation. "Is there anything going on that we should know about?"

Radek thought about it for a moment and then shrugged, uneasily. "I think you are asking the wrong man," he said.

"I've already asked Rodney but he just closes up like a clam," John sighed.

"I did not mean Rodney," Radek said quietly. "I think if you want to find out what is wrong with Rodney then you must first find out what is happening with Sergeant Bates."

"Bates?" John frowned. "I thought I'd dealt with Bates. Hell, Rodney told me himself that Bates wasn't giving him any trouble."

"Maybe that is so, if Rodney says it is," Radek said. "But Rodney is a proud man, perhaps the proudest man I've ever met, and I think he would not want a top such as yourself to know his problems. Yes?"

"Is there something you know that you aren't telling me?" John demanded. Radek shifted nervously.

"It is Rodney's business," he said, finally. "That is all I wish to say."

John considered this for a moment, but Radek looked very tight-lipped, and clearly wasn't going to tell him anything more. John sighed.

"Okay - let's leave it at that then," he said, still none the wiser as to what, exactly, was going on with Rodney. Not that it was his responsibility to find out - he wasn't interested in taking the man as a sub after all. No, the only reason he cared was because Rodney was on his team, and John always looked out for the people on his team.

John walked back to his office, feeling unsettled by the day's events. For some reason he couldn't get the mental image of a pale, tired-looking Rodney McKay out of his head. The scientist looked like a man running on empty - and utterly out of control at the same time. John wondered what the hell was going on in the scientist's mind - from everything he'd heard, this wasn't typical Rodney McKay behaviour, and he could only guess at how much it had to be costing such a proud, arrogant man, to end up on that punishment frame time after time. He remembered the way Rodney had stumbled, and how he had fallen against him, the warm solidity of his body against his own and the look in those blue eyes - combined sadness and a kind of guarded desperation. John felt his fists clench, and he sat down at his desk and slammed his hand onto his radio.

"Sergeant Bates - I'd like to see you please. Now," he snapped curtly.

Bates looked his usual clean, sharp self when he arrived a few minutes later, in stark contrast to the city's shambolic Head of Science, with his unkempt hair and scruffy clothes. Bates was every inch the professional soldier - parade ground ready, boots polished, everything shining. John gazed at him, wondering what the hell he was expecting to learn from this meeting.

"Sergeant Bates - I'm concerned about that punch Dr McKay threw at you in the briefing room," John said cautiously. "It seemed…kind of out of character. Dr McKay's main form of attack is his sharp tongue after all," John said, watching Bates carefully. "So, I was wondering if you knew of anything that might have set him off."

Bates frowned. "Such as, sir?" he asked.

"I was wondering if the two of you had argued recently, or if there was any animosity between you. I seem to recall making my feelings on that subject very plain right after the jello incident."

Bates shook his head. "I can't think of anything, sir," he said. "To be honest I've hardly even seen Dr McKay since that time with the jello in the mess hall. Our paths don't cross much."

John sat back in his chair and considered the sergeant, saying nothing, hoping that would un-nerve the other man. A minute passed, and Bates started to look uncomfortable.

"Why sir?" he asked eventually. "Has Dr McKay made a complaint about me?"

"No," John said slowly. "What makes you think he would?"

"Nothing, sir. Just that you seem to think there might be some kind of problem."

"And is there?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Not with me, sir," Bates replied, and there was something about the way he said it, with just the hint of an eyeroll, that made it clear to John that Bates was saying that if anyone had a problem it was McKay, and nothing whatsoever to do with Bates.

"So, you can't think of anything you might have said, or done, that would have caused him to punch you a few days ago?" John pressed.

"Nothing beyond what you heard in that meeting, sir. To be honest, I'm not sure that Dr McKay is coping very well with the pressure of life out here. You only have to look at his appearance - the man is a mess." Bates gave a conspiratorial little smile. "But then he's a scientist after all, not a soldier, and he's had no training for what we're facing out here."

"What are you implying?" John asked quietly. "Speak your mind, Sergeant - off the record."

"Well, we're in another galaxy, and we've come up against some pretty scary aliens, sir. I'm just saying that a lot of people might find that hard to handle and Dr McKay doesn't strike me as being the most stable of people. Maybe he needs fewer responsibilities. You have to admit that it doesn't look good when the Head of Science, the second in command on this expedition, ends up in the punishment room every week or so. Off the record…I'd say he was cracking up, sir."

"Really?" John pondered that for a moment. Rodney was certainly desperate - but cracking up? The truth was that John felt more confident about Rodney's behaviour offworld, with all that implied by way of scary aliens, than he did about the scientist's conduct in the city. Offworld, Rodney had been brave, committed, relaxed and even pretty good fun to be around - it was only back on Atlantis that he played up.

"Yes, sir. Honestly, I've got nothing against the guy but I have wondered if he needs psychiatric help. I mean - the way he threw himself at me in the briefing room? It was kind of extreme. You were there - I hardly said anything that warranted that kind of personal attack. My first thoughts are always for the safety of the mission and the people we're here to protect, sir." Bates nodded firmly and John had no doubt that he absolutely meant that.

"You think Dr McKay is a liability?"

Bates hesitated. "Well, nobody's denying he's very smart, sir, but yes…I think he IS a liability. If it were up to me, I'd bench him for a few weeks, take the pressure off him. For his own good and the good of the expedition."

"I see. Sergeant - I'm very much aware there was some bad blood between you and Dr McKay. Now, if you lie to me about this I will have your guts, Sergeant, and I promise you that it won't be pretty, but if you tell me the truth then you'll only get your ass kicked a little. I'm only going to ask you this once: have you bullied Dr McKay at any point since that day in the punishment room when I put you through your paces and made it very clear that he was deserving of your utmost respect?"

Bates's mouth set into a hard line. "No, *sir*," he practically spat. "I always follow orders, sir and you made your views on that day very plain, sir."

"All right then, Sergeant. I'll take you at your word. Dismissed," John said. He watched Bates go, feeling as if he'd got nowhere, and he couldn't shake the niggling feeling that he'd missed something. He slapped his headset again and called Corporal Hicks to his office. Bates was a hard nut to crack - but Hicks? Well, he was just a kid, and a pretty malleable one at that.

Hicks stood to attention in front of his desk a few minutes later and John sat back in his chair and surveyed him. He didn't give the corporal permission to stand at ease, and the blond kid started to flush under his scrutiny.

"Corporal, I'm going to ask you a question, and I want an honest reply," John told him. Hicks flushed even deeper and his voice croaked as he replied.

"I would always be honest with you, sir." There was a wistful look in his eyes as he said that, and John remembered how cute he'd looked on his knees, with his head down, utterly submissive. Yes, there was no way this kid would lie to him - and even if he did, John would see through it without any trouble at all.

"You hang out with a little gang in your off duty hours I believe," John said. "With Krettman, Bates and some of the others - yes?"

"Yes, sir," Hicks nodded but he looked worried, clearly uncertain where this was heading.

"Have you witnessed Dr McKay being harassed in any way recently?" John asked. Hicks flushed a bright red, and looked a little ashamed of himself.

"No, sir," he whispered. "And I apologised to Dr McKay about the way things were before. I didn't realise it had gone too far. I was just…kind of joining in but I can see that was pretty dumb of me now."

"What about Bates? Have you seen him harassing Dr McKay lately?" John pressed. Hicks shook his head vehemently.

"No, sir! In fact, I haven't seen them so much as say two words to each other since that day you, uh, made things clear to us in the punishment room, sir." Hicks was now flushing a shade that could only be described as vermillion. "Bates won't let any of the others say anything, either - he glares at anyone who even looks at McKay in a funny way, and he gets kind of angry if anyone says anything against McKay - even in private. I've seen him almost get into fights over that."

"Okay. Thank you, Corporal," John sighed. He dismissed the kid and sat back in his chair again feeling completely demoralised. There simply weren't any obvious answers here - unless he accepted Bates's assertion at face value that Rodney was simply cracking up. Both Bates and Hicks were singing from the same hymn sheet, and while he wasn't completely sure about Bates, he would bet his life on the fact that Hicks was telling him the truth. It was Bates's behaviour that bothered him though. The man had just effectively briefed against Rodney, in the most subtle of ways, undermining him, calling his mental state into question, suggesting he be sidelined…and yet, Hicks was adamant that Bates not only didn't have a bad word to say about Rodney when they were alone together, but also that he wouldn't tolerate anyone else bad-mouthing him, either. It just didn't stack up.

John sighed - maybe there was some kind of obvious answer to all this in here somewhere, but if so, it completely eluded him. There was little he could do except monitor the situation, and hope that if there was an obvious answer, it'd eventually make itself so obvious that it hit him upside the head, because right now he had nothing.

 

~*~

 

Rodney had a surprisingly nice day in the infirmary. Carson didn't seem very busy - or if he was, he put his workload on hold. He joined Rodney for a meal which felt relaxed, not like a doctor/patient thing at all, but more like two friends passing some time together. Carson joked around with him and didn't once mention his recent punishment, for which Rodney was extremely grateful. Rodney was still feeling pretty fuzzy after his hypoglycaemic attack and he didn't demur when Carson insisted he take a nap during the afternoon. In fact, it felt really nice to get some sleep - he hadn't realised just how bad his insomnia had become. Usually there was no way Rodney would have been able to sleep during the day, but Carson sat beside him, reading through some notes, and that was oddly comforting and before he knew it he was coming to, blurrily, to find that five hours had passed.

He should have realised that Carson wouldn't let it go at that though. Only when Rodney had eaten another meal, and was feeling exponentially better, with a full stomach and several hours sleep behind him, did Carson lean forward, gaze at him with those knowing blue eyes, and start in on all the killer questions.

"So, how long have you had the insomnia, laddie?" he asked. Rodney winced. He always knew it was going to be bad when Carson started calling him laddie.

"It's nothing. I've never needed much sleep," he replied. Carson smiled, that tight, toppy little smile that said there was no way he would ever let Rodney get away with that kind of an answer. Rodney sighed.  
"The past couple of weeks have been stressful," he admitted. "I needed to get the generators online and I wanted to test a couple of theories about how the city worked which involved setting up some complicated experiments that you wouldn't understand." Carson grinned, completely unfazed by Rodney's aspersions on his intelligence.

"Do you lie awake at night worrying about anything, Rodney?" Carson asked. Rodney gazed at him blankly. He thought of Jeannie, thought of Bates, thought, inexplicably, of Colonel Sheppard. "The Wraith maybe?" Carson added. Rodney snorted.

"No, Carson. I can promise you I never lie awake at night worrying about the Wraith," he said, truthfully.

"I don't know why the bloody hell not!" Carson exclaimed. "Those little buggers give me the heebie jeebies. It'd be natural enough if you were freaked out by them."

"Well I'm not," Rodney replied firmly.

"So what do you lie awake thinking about?" Carson pressed. Rodney felt his hands start to twitch anxiously.

"Just…I don't want Sheppard to throw me off his team," Rodney said, surprising himself by that admission. Some kind of a knowing look flashed into Carson's blue eyes.

"And why do you think he would?" Carson asked quietly.

"Some of the things Bates said before I punched him." Rodney shrugged. "And man, you have no idea how good *that* felt."

"Ah. Bates. I wondered when he'd come up," Carson murmured. "Is he bothering you, Rodney? Because if he is, there are plenty of people here who can take care of that."

"I am perfectly capable of dealing with Sergeant Bates all by myself thank you very much, Carson!" Rodney growled. "Stop patronising me and don't treat me like an idiot. I may be very many things but stupid is not one of them."

Carson gazed at him thoughtfully. "You didn't answer my question, Rodney," he said softly. Rodney thought about telling his friend but he had a sudden flashback to Bates sitting watching him being punished that morning. He recalled the way Bates had been rubbing himself, getting off on his pain and humiliation. Damnit, he would get back at that bastard, if it was the last thing he did.

"No," Rodney said, tilting his chin forward firmly. "Bates isn't a problem. He isn't a problem at all."

Carson finally released him around seven, with strict instructions that he was not, under any circumstances, to go back to his lab. Rodney was fine with that - he had already decided that he was going somewhere else in any case. He arrived outside a door a few minutes later, and hesitated, steeling himself for what he intended to do next. He'd had enough of being pursued and harassed - it was time to turn the tables and start fighting back.

The door was locked, but that didn't bother Rodney. He knocked first of all, and when there was no reply he used his knowledge of the city to open the door and then stepped inside. The room was in darkness but Rodney didn't bother turning on a light. He just closed the door behind him, and went and sat down. He put his legs up on the table, feigning a nonchalance at odds with his wildly beating heart…and waited. The marines worked to a very strict schedule so he knew Bates wouldn't be long, and, sure enough, the sergeant returned to his room ten minutes later. He didn't turn on the light, either, just started tugging at his uniform collar to loosen it.

"Hello, Bates," Rodney said softly.

Bates swung round, reaching for his weapon. Rodney gave a wry little chuckle and leaned back to switch on the light on the wall, flooding the room with light. Bates looked at him, an expression of total surprise on his face. That gave Rodney a buzz of pleasure, and he gave a wide grin.

"How did you get in here?" Bates demanded. "I left the door locked."

"Oh, I know this city backwards," Rodney told him. "I know just about everything there is to know about it - including how to bypass a few simple door mechanisms. So, you might want to be careful - with all the stuff I know, you really don't want to piss me off."

Bates gazed at him for a moment, and then his face creased into a broad grin too. "You wouldn't do anything," he said. "You're soft, Rodney."

"Want to bet your life on that?" Rodney asked, in a sinister tone. Bates's mouth set into a hard line.

"Don't threaten me, boy," he snarled. "You're just a sub running wild right now, and what you need is a hard top to bring you into line." Then his expression changed, and he gave a twisted kind of grin. "The way I see it, you're here for a reason right now, whether you've figured it out or not. You want what I can give you, Rodney."

Rodney slid his legs off the table, fighting the rising tide of panic in his gut. Suddenly the whole 'attack is the best method of defence - show up in his room and freak him out' strategy wasn't working as well as he'd expected, and he was acutely aware that he was stuck in Bates's room with no one around if the sergeant decided to turn nasty.

"I told you," Bates said, in a low, soft tone. "I told you that you'd come here. I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away. Now get on your knees, boy, because I'm going to beat the shit out of you before I fuck you." His hands went to his belt and Rodney got up, and edged nervously towards the door.

"I don't think so," he hissed, and then he tried to make a dignified exit, striding purposefully towards the door. He was nearly there when Bates got to him, caught hold of his arm, and spun him back.

"I said, on-your-knees," Bates ground out, pushing Rodney down in the general direction of the floor. Rodney slammed his hand into the other man's belly and broke the sergeant's grasp, only for Bates to trip him as he tried to make another run for it. Rodney scrabbled around frantically on the floor, trying to get away again, but Bates was too fast for him. "That's right," Bates hissed. "On your knees, where you belong." He grabbed hold of Rodney's hair, pulled his head back, and then traced a finger over Rodney's mouth. "Oh yes…cock-sucking lips…I'll put them to good use," Bates whispered.

"Stick your cock in my mouth and I'll bite the damn thing off," Rodney snarled, twisting helplessly in the other man's grasp. The expression in Bates's eyes made it clear he wasn't going to risk that, but Rodney could feel his hardness against his cheek all the same, and it made him feel physically sick to realise that this was turning Bates on. "I saw you today, you sick pervert," Rodney said. "Saw you when I was being punished…rubbing yourself…."

"What can I say?" Bates grinned. "The sight of you, ass up over that frame, makes me horny. Is that why you're here, Rodney? Did it turn you on too?"

"Let me go," Rodney hissed, and he was surprised when, a second later, Bates did just that. Rodney slumped to the floor but got up quickly. Bates watched him, still grinning, his eyes raking over Rodney's body as if he was mentally undressing him.

"You are such a crappy sub," Bates said. "I'm going to make you beg for it, Rodney. One day, you'll beg me to allow you to suck my cock. It can be today if you want. Do you want it, Rodney. It's hard for you." His hand went down to the front of his pants and caressed the hardness through the fabric.

"If you want to beg me right now then I'll let you suck me. Might be a good way of shutting up your whiney little voice."

Rodney backed away towards the door, and Bates followed him, a dark, intent look in his eyes. "Did you know that Colonel Sheppard has serious doubts about your mental health, Rodney?" he said suddenly, in a sweet little tone. "I saw him today. My bet is that you're going to be taking an enforced break soon - and my other guess is that the only way you're going to be able to get your job back is if you start putting out for me."

"What?" Rodney gasped, horrified.

"Yeah. It's true. Sheppard and me had a nice, cosy little chat earlier. I told him that you're a liability, and he agrees with me. If you still keep acting crazy then I'm going to have them confine you to your quarters for your own safety…and I'll volunteer to be on the guard detail. I'll keep you safe, Rodney, just as long as you're a good boy for me. If you co-operate then I'll get you moved into my quarters, and put my training collar around your neck. Once everyone knows I'm your top, and once you've spent a couple of weeks in here, tied to the bed, nice and meek and mild, then I'll help you win your job back. I'll even help you keep it, just as long as you're a good little sub and let me fuck that soft ass of yours regularly. I heard you give pretty good blow jobs - I'm looking forward to getting one of those real soon."

He caressed his cock again through his pants, and Rodney backed off towards the door, his chest constricting in fear and loathing. He scrabbled for the lock and felt the door whoosh open behind him, and then he was stumbling out into the hallway.

"Real soon, Rodney!" Bates called after him.

Rodney made it back to his own quarters, ran into the bathroom, and then threw up the meal Carson had made him eat.

"Oh shit," he muttered to himself as he lay on the cold bathroom floor after having heaved his guts up into the toilet. "God you're fucked. You are so fucked, McKay."

 

Rodney spent the next few days doing what he did best when faced with any kind of enormous personal crisis - he buried himself in his work. He literally holed himself up in his lab and pored over the transcripts they'd copied from that Ancient temple. They weren't written in Ancient, but in an Ancient numerical code, which was unusual, and for that reason alone, Rodney was pretty sure he was the only person on Atlantis who'd be able to decipher them. Elizabeth dropped by, fascinated by what he was working on, and for awhile things were like they used to be between them, as Rodney explained, in super-fast tones, why the code was so exciting, and Elizabeth smiled at his obvious enthusiasm and asked what even Rodney had to concede were fairly intelligent questions.

Four days later he bounded into her office, interrupting a meeting she was having with Sheppard, and threw his laptop triumphantly onto her desk.

"Eureka!" he said excitedly, bouncing around the room, barely able to contain himself. Sheppard grinned at him.

"Damnit but I really would love to play poker with you," he commented.

Rodney grinned back at him. "I would lose, spectacularly, but on this, on being a brilliant genius capable of translating 10,000 year old Ancient numerical code language, on *this* I totally win and everyone else totally sucks," he proclaimed happily. Sheppard rolled his eyes, still grinning. Elizabeth was busy looking at the data he'd placed in front of her, her eyes wide and fascinated. Rodney couldn't even begin to contain the chirrup of pride that escaped his lips.

"These are all co-ordinates to planets with ZPMs?" she asked.

"Yes! ZPMs!" Rodney's hands did a little dance of glee entirely of their own volition. "Of course, this data is 10,000 years old so who knows if the ZPMs are still there but at last we have a lead - and look, there's three of them. Three potential ZPMs! When can we leave?"  
He whirled around and addressed that last comment to Colonel Sheppard without pausing. The colonel placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hold on, McKay… let me see the data first before you go saddling up the puddle jumpers," he grinned. He kept his hand on Rodney's shoulder as he bent over the laptop and Rodney took a deep breath, calming down from his previous level of high octane excitement. This was good! ZPMs! And maybe this discovery would help him get the respect he felt he deserved around this place.

"Well, we haven't been to any of these places - so why don't we start at the top?" Sheppard suggested. "RGT-9650."

"Great. Fantastic!" Rodney slid out from under the colonel's hand and bounced over to the door.

"Uh…not right this minute, Rodney," Sheppard said, in that amused drawl of his. "We'll need to prep."

"Agreed," Elizabeth said, nodding slowly. "Also, I'm presuming we won't just encounter a ZPM sitting by the gate so you might be gone for some time - and that means you'll need supplies, and I'm also going to suggest you take a squad of marines with you for backup. This is too important to screw up."

"Yeah." Sheppard nodded his head, in a maddeningly slow way, clearly considering all the mission requirements. Rodney sighed.

"Tomorrow then?"

"Six a.m." Sheppard grinned at him again. "Good work, Rodney!" Rodney felt a glow of pride that warmed him from the inside out, and it was as if he was walking on air as sauntered back to his lab. This - this - was why he was on this expedition.

RGT-9650 was a planet of dense forest but it was at least sunny when they stepped through the gate. Rodney judged that the time was somewhere around early afternoon, which gave them a few hours to look around before it got dark. Rodney unearthed some directions to another ruined temple, etched into a way-stone by the gate, and that saved them several hours searching. The only difficulty was the large, bat-like creatures that kept making bomber dives on them every few minutes. They weren't dangerous as such but they delivered a few nasty scratches to people's heads and necks, and made proper exploration of the temple impossible. Sheppard and his team of marines were kept busy firing at them to scare them away, while Rodney and *his* team of scientists were constantly interrupted in their study of the Ancient ruins by the creatures. After one of them nearly bit Rodney's ear, which Rodney complained about, vociferously, for a full ten minutes, Sheppard finally called for more backup. Half an hour later, another squad of marines came through the gate and Rodney stiffened as he saw Bates leading them towards the offworld team.

Bates barely looked at him though - as punctilious as ever when in the presence of others, he was every inch the professional soldier, saluting at Sheppard, and then ordering his men to sweep out and keep their guns ready to fire on the bat creatures.

Rodney relaxed. There was no way Bates would try anything out here, and he was too stoked up on the excitement of possibly being on the same planet as a ZPM to take much notice of the sergeant.

The day wore on, and the team spread out - the ruins were huge, and most of the etchings on its walls were some kind of religious mumbo jumbo that was much too recent to have been done by the Ancients, but Rodney was convinced there had to be something more if they just kept on looking.

As evening fell, they heard a noise from the direction of the stargate and Sheppard took a small team of marines to investigate. Rodney wandered down some old stone steps into a little ante-chamber and fumbled for his flashlight in the twilit room.

"Found anything?" a voice behind him asked.

"Not yet - the likelihood is that this room was used by some kind of elder, perhaps for robing ceremonies or secretarial work, and there's therefore more of a chance that there's some kind of secret message transcribed on the walls, rather than the hocus pocus we saw in the main chamber," Rodney said absently, and then he froze, recognising that voice. An arm went around his waist from behind, and he felt lips press against the back of his neck.

"I've wanted to get you alone all afternoon," Bates whispered into his ear. Rodney pushed back but only succeeded in dropping his flashlight, plunging the entire chamber into darkness. Bates laughed. "Such a klutz. I'm surprised Sheppard even allows you out on your own.

"Let me go," Rodney said, in a tight voice, squirming in Bates's grasp. He was a big man but Bates was a trained soldier, and his hard, toned muscles were more than a match for Rodney's softer bulk.

"You've been teasing me," Bates said. "You keep bending over to look at stuff written down by your feet, and I keep thinking about how good it'll be to finally get my hands on that fat ass of yours and fuck it long and hard."

"I told you that's never going to happen," Rodney hissed. "How much more obvious do I have to make it?"

"You're the kind of sub who has to be railroaded," Bates told him firmly, his lips brushing the back of Rodney's neck again, making him shudder. "You don't know what you want but you will when you feel my hard cock slamming into your ass. You'll know then."

"Do it then," Rodney said angrily. "You keep on threatening so just do it. What's stopping you, Bates?"

"I don't want to take you by force, Rodney - there wouldn't be any fun in that. No, I want to see the look in your eyes when you surrender to me. I want the joy of seeing you beg, on your hands and knees."

"I don't beg," Rodney said haughtily. "And if you're waiting for my consent then you'll have a damn long wait because that's never going to happen."

"Oh I think it will," Bates said softly. "Sheppard already thinks you're crazy - and with the way you keep acting out it won't be long before you screw up again and then I'll insist they bench you - you're clearly not safe to have around. I've got it all planned out, Rodney, and I can wait. It'll be all the sweeter to wait, to wait until you have nowhere left to go except my bed. I can smell your humiliation now, can see just how good you'll look on your hands and knees, crawling over to me and asking me to put you out of your misery and fuck you."

Rodney stood there, just gazing into the darkness, numb. Would it be so bad, he wondered, just to give Bates what he wanted?

"I'm a lousy sub. You'd soon grow tired of me," he said wearily. Bates's arm tightened around his waist, and Rodney felt his semi-hard cock digging into his buttocks.

"I'll train you up," Bates promised. "I have a fine collection of whips. I can guarantee I'll soon have you licked into shape." And with that he ran his tongue over the back of Rodney's neck, smearing saliva into his skin. "Soon, Rodney," Bates promised. I give it a couple of days - a week tops. Then you'll be mine." At that moment there was a commotion outside, back in the main chamber. Bates pulled away, quickly, and then Rodney heard him push on further into the depths of the temple.

Rodney stood there for a moment, trying to collect himself. He reached up and wiped the back of his neck with his sleeve, feeling dirty, and then he felt a rising tide of anger so furious that he couldn't stop himself from slamming his fist against the wall. The momentary pain brought him up short, and he gave a silent howl, but at least it distracted him from the memory of Bates licking his neck. Then he heard footsteps on the stairs leading down from the main chamber, and a second later a flashlight shone in his eyes.

"McKay?" Sheppard's voice. "We have to get out of here. Quick - there are wraith ships out there." The flashlight came close and Rodney caught sight of Sheppard's worried hazel eyes. "Anyone else down here with you?" Sheppard asked.

Rodney didn't actually consciously think about it, but if he had, he was pretty sure that he'd have given the same answer. He shook his head.

"No," he said. "Nobody else. I came down here alone."

"Let's get moving then." Sheppard ushered him back up into the main chamber, pushing him up ahead, clearly worried. The main chamber was empty, and the sun had almost set, casting the ruins in a shadowy light, making them look ten times more spooky than they had that afternoon.

"Great - you've found him," Ford said, running up. "I've already taken all the scientists through the gate, Colonel.

"Good - everyone accounted for?" Sheppard asked, starting to jog out of the chamber and back towards the forest.

"Everyone except Bates, sir," Ford said.

Sheppard came to a halt and glanced back at the temple. "Did you see him back there?" he asked Rodney.

Rodney shook his head again, glancing nervously back at the temple, hoping Bates wouldn't appear. "Nope. I saw him leave when you first sounded the alarm, Colonel. He must have headed back to the gate on his own."

"You sure?" Sheppard frowned.

Rodney nodded. The lie had already been told. There was no point backtracking now. "Positive."

Sheppard tapped on his radio. "Sergeant Bates…" he began, but at that moment a wraith ship screeched overhead. "Run!" Sheppard ordered, pushing Rodney out of the way of the beam. Somehow they got separated from Ford in the melee, and it was just the two of them, zig-zagging through the forest. Rodney could feel his chest pounding and he was grateful that Sheppard seemed to know where they were going as he'd lost his bearings completely. Sheppard kept nudging him with a hand on his shoulder, and eventually they emerged into a clearing. Rodney saw the gate directly ahead but there was a wraith ship circling overhead.

"Run for the gate while I cover you! I'll shoot at the ship to keep it away," Sheppard yelled. Rodney hesitated. "Do it!" Sheppard commanded.

"What about you?" Rodney asked breathlessly, leaning his hands on his knees, too out of shape for such a long jog over such difficult terrain.

"I'll be right behind you," Sheppard said.

"Let's run it together," Rodney suggested, not liking the idea of Sheppard staying behind to be scooped up by the Wraith.

"No!" Sheppard yelled, over the screeching sound of the dart overhead. "Go!"

Rodney thought about it for a moment, and then shook his head. "Together," he said obstinately, sticking his jaw out. Sheppard gave him an exasperated look and then, finally, he grabbed Rodney's arm and they both started running. It was only a short distance to the gate but to Rodney it felt like miles as they ran, Sheppard firing furiously into the air the entire time. They got to the gate just as the wraith ship swooped towards them, its beam sweeping the ground. Sheppard pushed him through, and then tumbled in after him, and they arrived on the other side together, in a tangle of limbs.

 

~*~


	5. The Training Collar

John got to his feet, held out a hand to Rodney, and hauled him to his feet.

"Close shave," Rodney said, grinning at him.

"You are going to have to learn to follow orders when we're offworld," John told him, rolling his eyes at him.

"Hey - we both got back safely, and if we'd done it *your* way it's likely you'd be in the belly of a wraith ship right now," Rodney told him, those blue eyes of his gleaming. John shook his head in disgust.

"Incorrigible," he muttered under his breath as he turned towards Teyla.

"Did Ford make it back okay?" he asked her. She nodded.

"Just a minute before you, Colonel. Everyone is accounted for except for Sergeant Bates."

"Bates?" John whirled around and looked at Rodney. "I thought you said you saw Bates running for the gate just after I sounded the alarm." Rodney looked at him from wide, innocent blue eyes.

"I thought I saw him," he shrugged. "Maybe I was wrong."

"Oh for Chrissakes, Rodney! That wasn't what you said back there! You said you were positive you'd seen him leave."

"Did I? I thought I said I was pretty sure he'd left but couldn't swear to it," Rodney said, glancing at John through his eyelashes. John had been lied to by enough wilful subs in his time to know what was going on here, and he fought down a wave of anger.

"Great. Now I'm going to have to go back for him," he growled.

"Or you could just leave him there. He's a grown man…" Rodney began.

"I don't leave men behind!" John snapped. "Not now, not ever, no matter what. Now you, stay here. Don't move, don't go anywhere, don't do anything until I get back. I want a few words with you."

John unholstered his gun and turned back to the gate, and was surprised when Rodney grabbed his arm just as he was about to go through.

"No…no, no, no," the scientist said, a note of panic in his voice. "You're not going back through alone! There are wraith ships out there!"

"That's precisely why I'm going alone," John ground out angrily.

"Wait, no, this isn't what I wanted…." Rodney bit on his lip. John grabbed his arm, hard, and took him to one side.

"What did you want, Dr McKay? For Bates to get scooped up by the Wraith? For Bates to die out there? Is that what you wanted?"

Rodney shook his head, those blue eyes of his looking horrified. "No. No. That isn't what I wanted, either," he whispered. "I didn't mean…look, let me come back with you. We can find him together."

"No. You'd be a liability," John said and Rodney drew back, a strange, crumpled look on his face that John didn't understand at all but he didn't have time to consider it. He just turned and threw himself back through the gate without another word.

It was now dark on the planet, but there were three pale moons overhead, giving him just enough light to see a lone figure lurking in the tree line, gazing apprehensively at the wraith dart that was patrolling above the gate.

"Bates!" John roared over the sound of the hovering dart. "Run for it. I'll cover you." The sergeant nodded, and started running, and John took up position and fired at the dart, forcing it to move along, out of beam's reach of either of them. Bates was fast, and a few seconds later they were both able to run back through the gate.

Rodney was still hovering where John had left him, that anxious look on his face. "Oh thank god, Colonel," he said, running over when John was through the gate.

"You, come with me," John hissed, grabbing hold of Rodney's arm and propelling him towards the stairs, and then up towards Elizabeth's office. He strong-armed Rodney through the door, mentally clicked it closed behind them, and then turned on the scientist.   
"What the hell was that about?" he demanded. Elizabeth got to her feet, startled.

"John - what's going on? Teyla just radioed to say everyone was back safely."

"Yeah - no thanks to McKay," John snapped. "I'm struggling to understand this right now, McKay - but did you tell me a deliberate lie that resulted in a man nearly dying out there?"

Rodney thought about that for a moment, and then he gave a world-weary kind of smile and stuck his jaw out in that obstinate way of his.

"Yes, you know, I think I did," he said.

"Damnit!" John turned away in disgust.

"Rodney - I don't believe that," Elizabeth said, gazing at Rodney intently.

"It was Bates," John told her. "The man we left behind because Rodney told us he'd gone on ahead was Bates."

"Oh. Okay. *Now* I kind of believe it," Elizabeth sighed. "But still, Rodney, would you really go this far? Throwing a punch is one thing but leaving a man to get taken by the Wraith? I just find it hard to believe you'd do something like that."

"I didn't think he'd get taken," Rodney snapped. "I just thought it'd scare him a little. I told Colonel Sheppard I'd go back and get him but he wouldn't let me."

"Well at least that's something," Elizabeth said, but her hazel eyes were hard and angry. "You've gone too far this time, Rodney," she said. "I honestly despair of you." Rodney rocked back on his heels, a completely unreadable look in those blue eyes of his. "Why would you do something like this?" Elizabeth asked.

John was struck by the shadow that flitted across Rodney's eyes in response to that question, and he frowned. Something wasn't right here - something that niggled away at him but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Rodney gazed at Elizabeth, and then he glanced sideways at John, as if searching for something, beseeching for something. For a second John thought he saw an answer in Rodney's eyes but then it was gone, and Rodney just shrugged, making no reply.

"Rodney," Elizabeth said in a warning tone. At that moment there was a knock on the door, and Sergeant Bates entered the room. He didn't even look at Rodney, just stood to attention.

"My lady, Sir - I've just heard that Dr McKay deliberately conspired to leave me behind back there," he said, in crisp tones. "I no longer feel safe working with Dr McKay, and I'd like to request that he be removed from his position."

Elizabeth sat down with a sigh, and John felt for her. This was a mess, no doubt about it.

"Sergeant - Dr McKay is a senior member of this expedition with expertise that we sorely need - expertise that could save our lives," she said wearily.

"You'll forgive me for not finding that very reassuring when he doesn't seem to have a very high regard for *my* life," Bates said.

Elizabeth took a deep breath. "Okay. I'll consider this. Rodney - as you've given no defence, please report to the punishment room at eight this evening to take your twenty strokes." John was watching, but not a flicker of emotion crossed Rodney's face. "You're also suspended from duty for now," she said, and this time the reaction was immediate - but it wasn't the outrage that John had been expecting. Instead, it was more akin to a wry and hopeless resignation. "Zelenka can take over your work until I've given this matter some thought," she added.

Rodney gave her a tight little nod, accepting her decision without question, which of and by itself John found strangely puzzling for someone as vocal and argumentative as McKay. Then the scientist turned to go. He brushed past Bates on the way out, and the sergeant shuffled to one side, and, as he did so, he muttered something to Rodney. It was only one word, and John wasn't close enough to be sure he'd heard correctly, but it sounded like Bates had said 'tonight'. Rodney flinched, and he turned and looked at Elizabeth, and opened his mouth, but she shot him such a forbidding look that he just closed it again, and left the room without saying another word, his shoulders slumped and defeated. Elizabeth excused Bates, leaving the two of them alone together.

"This is really ugly," she murmured.

"Yeah." John leaned against the wall, trying to put his finger on this nagging feeling he had, deep in his gut, that things weren't exactly as they seemed. There was just something…something…. "Elizabeth," he said suddenly, surprising himself. "Will you let me perform the punishment this evening?"

Elizabeth frowned. "Technically speaking Rodney doesn't come under military jurisdiction," she said.

"I know," John nodded. "But…nothing we've done so far has worked, and this situation is getting out of control. Now, we're stuck out here, and, as you said, Rodney is pretty much our only hope of surviving - we can't ignore that, any more than we can ignore him deliberately putting a man's life in jeopardy. However…I think we have to take some responsibility for the way he's behaving right now."

She raised an eyebrow and nodded her head, indicating that he should continue.

"That first time he was punished - following the jello incident?" She nodded again. "I made some enquiries and I think that whole event was more complicated than we realised. I'm sorry I didn't tell you - I thought I'd taken care of it - I had no idea it would escalate like this. However - punishing Rodney for that - I think it kind of broke him," John said quietly. "He's a proud man and he was desperately humiliated by it - to the point where he seemed to give up caring. So, I think we kind of owe him."

"I'd hate to think we did this to Rodney," Elizabeth said, her eyes dismayed.

"I don't think we did - not entirely. There's clearly something else going on with him, and I think he was already kind of losing it before we got our hands on him, but I don't think what we did helped any - it just pushed him another few steps closer to the edge."

"Are you suggesting we don't punish him this time?" she asked. "Because I really don't think we can do that. I can't be seen for a moment to be condoning what he did this afternoon - and Bates will make sure that word gets around about it. I'll have a mutiny on my hands if he's not punished."

"No. I agree. He has to be punished. Whatever the circumstances, you can't leave a man out there at the mercy of the Wraith," John said firmly.

"And why do you think it will help him if you perform his punishment instead of Peter?" Elizabeth asked.

"I just want to break up the dynamic a little," John shrugged. "He's kind of used to the routine of being punished - it's not working for him, and it's not getting us anywhere, so I think we need to shake him up a little by doing it differently. Also, I like Rodney - and he's on my team. He seems to value that, and I think it might have more impact if I punish him."

"Well…okay," Elizabeth sighed. "Anything's worth a try at this point I suppose."

 

John went to the mission debriefing, grabbed a bite to eat in the mess hall, and then stopped by Major Lorne's office to give him a very important instruction. After that he returned to his quarters to take a shower before changing out of his BDUs and into his more usual outfit of black leather pants and black tee shirt. He felt more comfortable once he got into his everyday clothes - they fitted him like a second skin and he needed that right now. He was nervous about performing Rodney's punishment which was odd of and by itself because he was used to handing out punishments to his men. This was different though. This was complicated, and he didn't want to do anything that would make the situation worse. Finally, drawing on years of experience as a top, he decided that he'd keep a close eye on Rodney and play it by ear. He had a pretty good idea of how he'd go about this but a lot would depend on Rodney.

John got to the punishment room ten minutes early and he used the time to push the frame to one side, and put a chair facing him, and then, having got the room as he wanted it, he sat down on a chair and waited. Rodney showed up exactly on the dot of eight, as John had known he would, and the scientist hesitated in the doorway, blinking in surprise.

"What's going on?" He glanced at the empty chairs. "Where's my loving audience?" he queried, in a bitter tone.

"You know…I don't think anyone's coming today," John said. Rodney gazed at him suspiciously.

"Why the hell not?" he asked. John shrugged.

"Come on in, Rodney, and shut the door behind you," he said.

"I don't understand." Rodney stood there, his blue eyes confused. "Why wouldn't they come? I'd like to believe it's because they all love and respect me too much to want to see me being punished but we both know that's not the case." He gave a bitter, mirthless little laugh and John felt a pang of sympathy for him.

"Come in, Rodney," he said again, in a more gentle tone.

Rodney bit on his lip but he did as ordered. John beckoned him over. "Come and sit down," he said, patting the chair he'd placed opposite him.

"Sit down? Is this…am I being punished tonight?" Rodney demanded. "Because if not, I'd like to go back to my quarters. It's been a long day, and I've had to do far too much running."

"You are being punished, Rodney," John told him. "So you're not free to go."

"Wait…wait, wait, wait…." The look on Rodney's face was so horrified it was almost comical. John raised an eyebrow, wondering what the hell was coming next. "Oh god, please tell me you're not going to be the one punishing me," he hissed. John gave a wry smile.

"Yup," he said.

"Why?" Rodney demanded. "And what happened to the whole 'you're on my team now' thing?"

"All the more reason - it was me you lied to, and you did it while you were under my command when we were offworld," John replied.

Rodney gazed at him, those blues eyes of his still aghast. "But I'm not military!" he protested. "You have no right…and Elizabeth has no right to order this!"

"Something had to change," John told him firmly. "Clearly the old routine wasn't working - time to try something new."

"I don't like it," Rodney growled.

"That's kind of the point," John replied. "Now, come and sit down."

Rodney sighed, loudly. "Oh god. This goes from bad to worse. There's going to be some kind of lecture first, isn't there?"

"Not really. I just wanted to talk." John shook his head.

"See - those words never bode well for anyone," Rodney grimaced, but he did finally walk over and sit down opposite John.

"What's going on with Bates?" John asked bluntly. Rodney got straight up again and began walking back towards the door. "Sit down, McKay. I'm not done with you yet," John said, in his most commanding tone. Rodney hesitated, the muscles in his back tight and tense, and then, with a sigh, he turned around and came back to the chair.

"Nothing is going on with Bates," he said quietly. "I just don't like the guy."

"Okay." John nodded slowly. "There are plenty of people I don't like but I wouldn't let them become wraith fodder."

"Well maybe you're a nobler person than I am," Rodney shrugged.

"Or maybe you have more reason to dislike him than I know about," John pressed. Rodney glared at him but remained mute. John sighed.

"Have you ever thought about finding a top, Rodney?" he asked, surprising himself with that question. Rodney flushed, angrily.

"I don't want a damn top!" he snapped. "I'm not even looking for a top! The last thing I want is some stupid dominant marching around giving me orders. I *like* being single."

"I was just thinking - it might give you some grounding."

"Yeah. Right. Because everything's about sex, isn't it?" Rodney shot at him. "God you're impertinent, Colonel, and regardless of what happened today I don't have to answer these kinds of questions, so either punish me or let me leave!"

"I'm sorry," John said quietly. "That was out of line. I just wondered why you're so unhappy."  
Rodney gazed at him, his blue eyes suddenly big. John took a sharp intake of breath. "You *are* unhappy, Rodney," John said softly. "I'm not just talking about the way you behave towards Bates - but look at how you are with Elizabeth half the time. Now, I know that's not like you, because Carson sings your praises, and Radek thinks the sun shines out of your ass."

"He does?" Rodney looked surprised. "Well, of course, I *am* brilliant. He must find it a humbling experience working with me."

John swallowed down a laugh. "I'm sure he does, Rodney," he murmured. "So what's going on? Why are you so unhappy?"

Rodney gazed at him with those big eyes again and for a moment John thought he might have had a breakthrough, as Rodney looked for just one second as if he trusted him enough to reply…and then the moment passed, the shutters came down again - and that guarded look was back in Rodney's eyes.

"Ah. Very good, Colonel. Did you learn that little empathy trick in some leadership seminar, hmm?" Rodney asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I'm sorry," John said simply. Rodney frowned, wrong-footed.

"What?"

"I'm sorry. I should have apologised before for that jello incident. I did make enquiries and I know that there was some provocation there. I thought I should let you know that I'm sorry about that. As I mentioned to you before, I did discipline the men in question."

"It was a public punishment. A public apology might have been more appropriate," Rodney said softly. John inclined his head.

"You're right. I didn't think of it that way. I'm sorry about that too. I'm not your enemy, Rodney. I like you - and I like having you on my team."

"Really?" Rodney's expression brightened momentarily, and then faded. "Well, tough, I guess, because I'm on suspension now."

"Hopefully not for long," John said.

"Well…" Rodney gave a tight, twisted little smile. "Maybe not. If I do what…what is expedient, then maybe not. Is it worth it though? Is my job worth that? I guess that's what I'm trying to figure out right now."

"What do you mean?" John frowned, wondering what the hell Rodney was talking about. "What do you mean by doing what's 'expedient'?"

"It doesn't matter. It'll be all over by tonight, one way or another." Rodney shrugged. "Now, are you going to punish me, Colonel? I think Elizabeth mentioned twenty swats." He got up and went over to the punishment frame. "This seems to have been pushed into the corner." He put his hand out to move it.

"Leave it. I put it there. We aren't doing things that way," John told him.

Rodney turned, startled. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, that this will be different," John said firmly. "Now unfasten your pants and get over my knees please."

"What?" Rodney asked, looking completely aghast. "Oh come on, Colonel! No way!"

"The frame wasn't working. We're trying something different."

"It's illegal!" Rodney snapped. "You don't get to perve over me, Colonel."

John glared at him. "Pipe down, McKay - I don't appreciate that kind of accusation. We're out here, in a completely different galaxy, all alone, and we're having to muddle through right now and do the best we can. So, you can either get over my knee and take your swats from my hand, or you can wait until tomorrow and I'll have Elizabeth arrange it so that Peter can blister your ass with the cane in front of a jeering crowd. So what's it to be?"

"The cane?" Rodney bit on his lip.

"Yeah. Twenty with the cane - because if Bates really wants to then he can make a case for attempted homicide and Elizabeth wants to head that off. So that was what she said to me - you either take what I hand out, or you come back tomorrow and take something much worse. It's up to you."

John sat back and waited. Rodney thought about it, and the minutes ticked by, really slowly. John watched the play of emotions cross his face as he weighed it up, but, eventually, his shoulders slumped in resignation, and he gave in.

"It's wrong," Rodney said at last, walking towards him, his hands going to his belt.

"No. It's unusual - it's not wrong," John said.

"Why are you doing this?" Rodney stood there, looking utterly miserable, and John couldn't help but feel sorry for him. He knew this had to be hard for Rodney - an over the knee spanking was something intimate, something delivered by a lover, a parent, or a good friend. It was still a punishment, but it was also a gesture of caring and trust, and Rodney didn't find it easy to trust anyone. No wonder he was struggling with this. And it *was* unusual - judicial punishments were impersonal affairs and an implement was always used, but John didn't have any intention of using a paddle or strap - he didn't think that would reach Rodney in the frame of mind he was in right now, and he really wanted to reach Rodney, before things escalated even more. They needed Rodney too much to just give up on him.

"Because you've had a hard time lately," John replied softly, firmly. "And because I want to help."

Rodney's eyes shone an intense shade of blue and he gazed at John helplessly. John gazed back at him, willing him to trust him. Finally, something seemed to give way, and Rodney put his head down and undid his pants, and then lowered himself over John's knee. He was slightly awkward about it because of the situation, but he had the air of a practised sub, and was soon in position. John took a deep breath. He had known this might be hard for Rodney, but he hadn't appreciated that it would be hard for him too. Intimacy went both ways after all. John reached for Rodney's pants and slowly pulled them down, along with his boxers, to just beneath Rodney's ass, and it was only then that he realised that he'd just made a huge, giant mistake.

There was a reason why judicial spankings were impersonal - and John figured that out a minute too late. He was an experienced top, and he'd handed out a lot of over the knee spankings in his time, but only to lovers, and, a couple of times, to young men under his command who needed a firm but essentially kind hand. He had thought this spanking fell into the latter category, had thought he could easily play the concerned, stern role that he thought Rodney needed right now, but instead he was hit by a wave of something so intense it took him completely by surprise.

This felt right. It didn't feel like a role he was playing in order to save Rodney from himself. It felt like something he wanted to do, and to do often, not to punish Rodney, but to have him, to keep him, to hold him, to touch him, to *own* him…. Rodney's weight was solid on his thighs, and John wanted to reach out and stroke his back, the way he might do with a lover, calming and gentling him before a spanking. He had been insulted when Rodney had accused him of wanting to perve over him, but now he suddenly felt uncomfortable in this position. He just hadn't anticipated this response. He didn't even want to look at Rodney's ass, because he wasn't sure he could trust himself not to want to caress it, and that would be taking the worst kind of advantage of Rodney.

John took a deep breath, and tried to collect himself. He had no idea what was going on. He'd dismissed any idea of taking Rodney as a sub weeks ago. The guy was nothing but trouble - endearing trouble, but trouble nonetheless, and John had never thought a prickly, arrogant, opinionated scientist would be what he wanted from a partner, no matter how blue his eyes, or how plump and perfect his ass. John struggled with these strange, new, and almost completely overwhelming emotions for a moment, trying to get control of himself. This wasn't the time or place to think about this. He thought instead about the way Rodney had lied to him this afternoon. He liked Rodney, and he felt sorry for the man, but his lie earlier in the day had almost got a man killed - and not just any man - one of *John's* men. John felt his jaw tightening - he was usually a pretty laidback kind of guy, but that hid some very fierce instincts, and one of his cardinal rules was that nobody ever - *ever* - got left behind. Rodney's lie could have condemned Bates to death, and, regardless of the circumstances, for that alone Rodney deserved this punishment.

John lifted his hand and brought it down hard on Rodney's ass. He tried not to think about the enticing pink mark it made, or how Rodney settled down more firmly on his lap in acceptance of it, or the way his buttocks wobbled slightly from the swat. He just wrapped his arm around Rodney's waist and smacked down another stinging swat, and then another, keeping his hand hard and his pace lively, not allowing Rodney time to recover between the swats. He wanted something to break, wanted to feel some sense of catharsis from Rodney, and for that reason he had no intention of stopping at twenty. This would go on for as long as it needed to go on, and he'd know when that was by how Rodney responded.

The blistering pace continued, and John soon lost count. It was clear that Rodney hadn't though, as, a few seconds later, he gave a big sigh and tried to lever himself off John's lap. John held him back down and Rodney struggled, starting to panic.

"That was twenty!" he complained. "Elizabeth said twenty!"

"But *I* didn't," John told him. "I just told you that you'd have to take what I handed out - I didn't say how many. And we're going to keep going until I'm satisfied we've got somewhere."

"No! Fuck you!" Rodney tried to push himself off of John's lap but John was more than a match for him, and he wrapped his arm even more firmly around Rodney's body and started in again.

"A man could have died because of your lie, Rodney," John told him grimly, as he delivered hard, fast swats to the scientist's upturned ass.

Rodney just lay there, seeming almost stunned, and then he began to mutter angrily - and it was the first reaction that John had ever seen him give to being punished. John remembered how silently Rodney had taken his previous punishments, and how that had made them all the more soul-destroying to watch, and he realised that this was *good*. This was what he wanted from Rodney - a reaction, any reaction.

Rodney cursed and hollered for the next few minutes, before, finally, he seemed to realise that this wasn't going to stop, no matter how many names he called John. Then he went quiet again, and John almost thought he'd reached a state of acceptance, but then he glanced at Rodney's face and saw that it was screwed up, full of pent-up emotions, and it was those that John wanted to shake loose. So he just pulled Rodney closer, and swatted him again. This time he kept up a rhythm on one particular spot on Rodney's ass, knowing how painful that was, and how hard it would be for Rodney to handle it.

Rodney started to growl, a deep, angry sound in the back of his throat, and he kept on growling for several minutes, until John wasn't sure whether he was going to break or not. He hoped so, because there was now a very red spot on the scientist's ass that was starting to look pretty painful, but John knew that he'd go as far as was necessary, no matter how painful it got. After what felt like an eternity, the growling changed into something more akin to a whimper. It was a soft sound, and so sad it almost stopped John in his tracks, but he knew that now was the time he had to continue, harder than ever, if he was ever going to get through to Rodney. He picked another spot on Rodney's ass and proceeded to smack his swats down there instead, and the whimpering became even more desperate. When John looked back at the scientist's face he saw real tears streaming down his cheeks. Rodney had buried his face in his arms and was trying to hide his reaction but John saw it, and he knew he'd done what he'd set out to do. He stopped spanking, and, deciding that protocol and regulations and everything else could go fuck themselves, he reached out and gently caressed Rodney's back. Rodney's breathing was coming in hitching gasps that John knew had far more to do with his emotions than the spanking he'd just received. Rodney's ass was glowing a deep crimson, concentrated in two particular spots, one on each buttock, but John thought that maybe, just maybe, this punishment had got though to him in a way the others had not.

He reached out and gently slid Rodney's boxers and pants up over his punished ass, but Rodney made no move to get off John's lap. Instead he just lay there, his body convulsing silently, and all the while John continued to stroke his back, gently reassuring him, the way he'd reassure a much cared for sub after a hard spanking. This didn't feel formal - this felt personal, and intimate, and although John had planned it that way it still took him by surprise to realise just how much it was affecting him. He'd acted purely on instinct this evening, trying to reach out to Rodney in the best way he knew how, and he hoped he'd done the right thing. It felt like the right thing - it felt like he'd read Rodney correctly, and done what was best. John didn't say a word, and neither did Rodney. The scientist just lay there, wracked by silent, heart-rending sobs, and John just sat there, stroking and comforting him. Then, finally, after what felt like hours, Rodney's sobbing subsided, and he lay there quietly, still unmoving. John let him go at his own pace - this was about Rodney, not him, and he'd respond to whatever Rodney wanted. Eventually Rodney slid, awkwardly, off John's lap, and stood up, shakily. John reached out a hand to steady him, and Rodney gave him a wan smile. His face was blotchy, his eyes a shade of bright aqua, and his wet eyelashes were startlingly dark, giving him an almost childlike quality.

"Thank you, Colonel," Rodney muttered softly. "I think…maybe, you know your art too well."

John shook his head, wryly. "I needed to see you respond," he said, just as softly. "You never have before. It had to make a difference or there was no point doing it."

"Yes. In retrospect I was an idiot," Rodney said, trying to do up his fly with shaking fingers. "I should have opted for the twenty with the cane. They would have been much easier to take. But then you were sneaky - and I made the mistake of not realising what, precisely, was on offer before agreeing to it."

"I'm sorry." John inclined his head. He watched as Rodney finally managed to do up his fly and then fumbled with his belt. "You took that well," John told him, needing to reach out to him, wanting that connection they'd shared to never end, because while nothing should have changed, everything - *everything* - was different between them now, and could never be the same again.

"You handed it out well," Rodney replied, with a sound that was halfway between a strangled laugh and a sob.

"Here." John couldn't stand watching him fumble with his belt any more, and he reached out and batted Rodney's hands away and did up his belt for him. Rodney stood there, dreamily, and one hand came up to rest on John's shoulder, perhaps to keep his balance, or perhaps just by instinct. John finished with his belt and then looked up to find Rodney's blue eyes very close. There were a hundred things he wanted to say but somehow he couldn't find the words to say any of them, and Rodney said nothing - he just stared at him with those hazy, tear-stained blue eyes. John guessed that they both knew something extraordinary had happened here, and that while neither of them wanted it to end, neither of them knew how to continue it, either. Finally, Rodney cleared his throat.

"I understand now," he murmured, glancing at the empty chairs over John's shoulder.

"Understand what?"

"Why there was nobody here. You told them not to come."

"Well, I got Major Lorne to tell them, but yes." John inclined his head.

"Well, for that I thank you." Rodney inclined his head. "I'd rather die than know the gawping masses had witnessed what just happened."

"Nothing happened, Rodney. It was just one man needing to let something out - needing to let a great deal out," John told him. He wanted, with every single impulse in his body, to take hold of the scientist and draw him into a hug.

"No, don't sell yourself short, Colonel. You broke me, pure and simple," Rodney replied, in a soft kind of voice. "Now…now I'm not entirely sure what to do with myself."

"That's why I'm here. To talk - if you'll open up," John said. "I didn't do that for my own amusement. I want to be a friend to you, Rodney, and I can be, if you'll trust me."

Rodney stared at him for a long time, and then, finally, he wiped his sleeve across his face and turned away. "Thank you…but…I think I really need some time alone right now."

John disagreed. He thought some time alone was the last thing Rodney needed right now but he wasn't Rodney's top and he couldn't hold Rodney, and comfort him, and do all the things that every instinct in his body was screaming out to be allowed to do right now. He could only watch, helplessly, as Rodney gave him a strange, formal, little nod, that was so wrong after what they'd just shared, and then the scientist turned, and walked slowly out of the room.

John sat down, feeling as if he'd been felled at the knees, and he put his head down and tried to concentrate on breathing. He'd had no idea that would be so intense…had no idea that what should have been a routine enough punishment would unleash all these emotions - and he still had no idea what these emotions were. Something about Rodney was making him feel all kinds of things that he had no frame of reference for. He knew he felt some things very deeply - he had a strong protective instinct for the men under his command, and he'd been very fond of the various subs he'd taken in his time, but he'd never felt like this before. This felt like being thrown head first over the side of an abyss, flying through the air in freefall, not knowing where you'd land. What was it about Rodney that evoked this reaction he wondered? What had been so special about spanking him that it had made him feel like this?

He went over and over the events of the past hour in his mind, trying to figure it out, but all it came down to was a sense of loss and total wrongness when Rodney had walked away from him. Something else niggled at John too - something about their conversation that he still didn't understand. Rodney had spoken about doing something expedient, something that would save his job, and John wondered what the hell he'd been referring to. He hadn't liked the bleak look in Rodney's eyes when he'd said that.

John got to his feet. He wasn't sure what he intended to do but he knew that he'd been wrong to allow Rodney to leave. John ran out into the hallway and along to the transporter. He stepped inside, and then hesitated. Where would Rodney have gone? Elizabeth had put him on suspension but would that stop him from going to his lab? He had spoken about being tired - would he have gone back to his quarters? John thought about it for a moment and then acted on instinct. The lab. It had to be the lab. Rodney might be on a suspension but he'd make sure he had his laptop and anything else he needed if he was going to be sitting around twiddling his thumbs for the foreseeable future.

The hallway leading to the lab was in darkness, which wasn't a surprise as it was late, and this section of the city was only used during working hours. John thought that maybe he'd made a mistake, and Rodney had gone to his quarters after all, but then he saw that the door to the lab was half open - and a light was shining inside. John strode up to the door and looked inside. Rodney must have only just arrived, because he was grabbing his laptop and various bits and pieces of equipment as John had predicted, moving slowly, taking care not to jolt his sore ass. He still had that dreamy look on his face, as if he wasn't quite there, his mind someplace else. John had seen subs look like that before, and he knew Rodney was floating away on endorphins right now, still in a post-spanking haze. What he needed was someone to take him by the arm, put him to bed, and watch over him, and John was happy enough to volunteer for that task. He was about to push open the door the rest of the way when the sound of a voice took him by surprise.

"I've been waiting for you."

Rodney froze, all the muscles in his back tensing, and John paused, one arm still outstretched, wondering who had spoken. He couldn't see anyone from where he was standing, but then he couldn't see the whole room through the half-open door. Rodney clearly hadn't been aware of anyone, either, but then he was pretty out of it right now so that wasn't surprising. John heard the scraping of a chair, and a man came into his field of vision.

Bates.

John took a deep breath and stayed where he was. What the hell was Bates doing here? And why had he been waiting for Rodney? Hicks had told him that the two of them had barely spoken a word to each other since the jello incident. Bates walked towards Rodney, and John saw that he was carrying a small, metallic box. John frowned - this just got more and more weird.

Rodney finally unfroze and turned, very, very slowly, and John saw a look of weary resignation in his eyes.

"Well played, Sergeant," Rodney said, nodding his head in a bitterly ironic way. "Looks like you won."

What the hell was *that* supposed to mean?

Bates gave a tight little smile and came to a halt right in front of Rodney, too close, invading his personal space. John tensed.

"Not yet," Bates said. "Not until I've got you crawling on your hands and knees, Rodney."  
Rodney took a deep breath and backed up slowly until he reached the wall. Bates followed him, still invading his space. John wondered whether to go in there and break things up, but he was curious as to where this was going.

"I haven't decided about that yet," Rodney replied. "I…you need to give me more time."

Bates shook his head. "No more time. It has to be tonight."

"Why?" Rodney asked, and John frowned at the tone of complete despair in his voice. "Why does it have to be tonight?"

"Because." Bates put the box down on a table, and then leaned forward and put his hands on the wall on either side of Rodney's head, trapping the scientist there, effectively pinning him against the wall. John tensed again - this was starting to look ugly. "I was robbed," Bates hissed and John had to strain to hear what he was saying. "I was looking forward to seeing your fat ass being caned tonight and instead Colonel fucking Sheppard ordered us to keep away. Now, as you tried to get me killed today, I think I'm owed, and tonight is when I collect. I've got a cane waiting for you, Rodney, back at my quarters. I'll stripe your ass with dozens of juicy red welts and then I'll fuck it into kingdom come…come being the operative word. I've got a nice chastity belt for you as well - you won't be coming tonight, Rodney, or any time soon. From now on, you're mine, and you don't get to come unless I say so - and I'm going to damn well make sure you earn it."

John was transfixed by the emotions crossing Rodney's expressive face; revulsion, fear, despair…. John felt his hands clench into fists. Was this some kind of sex game, he wondered, fighting down a surge of anger? Was this what Rodney wanted? It sure as hell didn't look that way.

Rodney closed his eyes, and when he opened them again he seemed to have come to a decision. He jutted out his jaw in that obstinate way he had and John tensed, waiting for his reply.

"No," Rodney said firmly. "The answer's still no, Bates. The answer has always been no and will always be no. So do what the fuck you like to me, ruin my career and make my life a misery, but I'm not going to sub for you - not now, not ever."

John felt a wave of euphoria sweep through him. Thank god for Rodney's stubborn streak! It might make him infuriating to work with but it also made him a hard man to push around.

Bates shook his head, grinning. "You don't mean that. You just like playing hard to get." He stepped back and opened the box. "Here - I brought you this," he said, taking something from the box and holding it up. John craned his neck to see what it was - and then gave a low hiss of anger. "It's my training collar," Bates said, and he held it up so that the links of the chain collar clinked through his fingers. It wasn't just any kind of a training collar, either - it was a very specific kind indeed, and John wasn't surprised to see the colour drain from Rodney's face when he saw it. The collar Bates was offering was a choke collar, like the kind you might put on a boisterous dog to keep it in check. There had been an unsuccessful campaign to make them illegal a few years' back and John didn't know any responsible top who'd use one. They were vicious - and in the wrong hands, tightened too far, they could kill. "It's got my tag on it," Bates said, holding the collar right up in front of Rodney's eyes and flicking at the little silver tag with his finger. "It says 'Property of T. Bates'. You see, Rodney, I want everyone to know you're mine. I'll make you wear it day and night so everyone can see who you belong to."

Rodney made a little noise in the back of his throat, and John saw the look of total horror in the scientist's eyes. Now everything made sense - the punch, the lie about Bates having left the planet - John wondered how long this had been going on, and felt physically sick at the thought of it.

"Just bend your head, Rodney," Bates said. "Bend your head for me so I can slip my collar on you."

"No." Rodney shook his head. "I told you no. Fuck you, Bates."

Bates gave a twisted little grin. "No - you're the one who is going to be fucked, Rodney, fucked long and hard up that fat ass of yours until you scream. Now, bend your head and take my collar - then I'll go to Elizabeth tomorrow and tell her that now I've had time to think about it, I've realised it was all a misunderstanding, that you're a good boy after all, and deserve your job back."

John felt cold inside as he finally figured out how far this had gone; Bates had planned this, and it must have been going on for some time. How often had Bates sought out Rodney when the scientist was alone and intimidated him like this, John wondered? How often had Bates used Elizabeth - and John himself - to do his dirty work for him, demanding that they punish Rodney, using them to close this nasty little trap around the man? Rodney's attacks on Bates hadn't been the unprovoked lunacy of a man out of control - they'd been the reasonable enough response of a desperate man backed into a corner, unable to see a way out.

"Call me sentimental," Rodney murmured, "but I always thought that when someone offered me their collar it would be a romantic moment. I'm not a hearts and flowers kind of man but I guess I had some stupid fantasy that if I ever allowed a top to put a collar on me that it would be an act of love, not blackmail."

"Blackmail's an ugly word," Bates hissed. "I'm just claiming what's rightfully mine. Now bend your head. Do it!" He slammed his hand onto Rodney's shoulder, holding him in place at the same time as trying to sling the collar over Rodney's head.

It was the first time he'd actually touched Rodney, and John felt something break inside him. He wasn't even aware of what he was doing as he threw himself into the room, stormed across to where they were standing, and grabbed hold of Bates bodily from behind, pulling him away from Rodney. He threw Bates halfway across the room, and was briefly aware of the look of total shock on the sergeant's face as he landed, awkwardly, on one of the workstations, and then rolled over and got to his feet. John didn't even let him draw breath - he was consumed with a kind of anger he'd never experienced before as he charged over to where Bates had fallen, grabbed him by the collar, and then felt a satisfying crunch as his fist connected with the sergeant's jaw. Once, twice, three times…

"When a sub says no," John growled, landing blow after blow on Bates's face, "he means no. It's not hard to get your head around."

"What the fuck are you doing?" Bates panted, managing to get his hands up to deflect the angry blows. "This is nothing to do with you, Colonel! It's private."

"Oh yeah? 'Cause it looked more like harassment and coercion from where I was standing," John growled, throwing Bates across the room again and watching him land with a satisfying thud on the floor.

"He's an unclaimed sub!" Bates protested, scrambling away on his hands and knees as John advanced on him again. "He's fair game. Nobody else wants him anyway. I was doing him a favour!"

"He said no!" John yelled, so angry that he could barely see straight. There was a red mist in front of his eyes, and all he wanted to do was grab Bates and pound his fist into his face, over and over again. He was aware that they were living out the cliché of hundreds of really bad movies, two tops going head to head over an un-collared sub, but nothing in his life had prepared him for the way he was feeling right now. He just knew that someone had *touched* Rodney - someone had tried to put their collar on Rodney, against Rodney's will, and that made him really, really angry.

"He doesn't know what he wants. He's falling apart. You've seen him - he's a total fucking mess! Look at him!" Bates spat, still crouching on the floor. John was aware of Rodney scuttling sideways, his face pale and his blue eyes wide with shock at what was happening. He picked up something from the floor and then darted forwards, cutting in front of John, making straight for Bates. John heard a clinking sound, and next thing he knew Rodney had thrown the collar over Bates's head and tightened it around his neck with one vicious pull on the loose end of the chain. Bates gave a strangled gasp and put his hands up to his neck, trying to free himself.

"Yeah, look at him," Rodney said, in a bitter tone, looking down on the sergeant with an expression of withering disgust. "How does it feel to be on the receiving end for a change, hmmm, Bates? Here, Colonel…he's one of your men - you deal with him," Rodney snapped, handing the end of the choke chain to John. John took it, loosening it off a fraction, and Bates knelt there, gasping for breath, clawing at his throat. Rodney shot him one last look, and then he turned on his heel and left the room.

John wanted to run after him, but first he had to deal with Bates. The sergeant was a mess - his jaw was bruised, one of his eyes was closed, and there was blood dripping down one side of his face and onto his uniform. John reached out and gave him a casual backhander, still holding onto the chain, and Bates went swinging away. John pulled him back and Bates put up his hands to protect his face. John wanted to hit him again - but the man was defenceless and he knew he'd gone far enough.

"Fuck you," Bates was hissing. "You had no right to interfere, Colonel. It was a sex game…he was nearly mine…."

"No he wasn't - and if it was a game, only one of you was damn well playing," John growled. "Now get your ass up and along to the infirmary, *Corporal*. Yeah, you heard me. I'm busting your sorry ass down a rank. From now on you're on a punishment detail - I want to know where you are every single hour of every single day. Starting with right now."

He undid the choke chain from around Bates's neck and held it up. "And these? Are fucking dangerous - as you now know, first hand." He turned around and threw the collar hard against the wall. It smashed into the surface and then slid down to the floor, where it came to rest in a little crumpled heap. "Tell me, Bates, were you trying to get us tops a bad name with the subs on this base, hmm? Because if so, you've damn well succeeded."

John tapped on his radio and called for two of his men to escort Bates down to the infirmary.  
"He is not, under any circumstances, to be left on his own," John told them when they showed up a couple of minutes later. "When Dr Beckett is done with him you can escort him back to his quarters and stand guard outside. He's to report to Major Lorne at 08:00 tomorrow morning and you will escort him there."

"You're making a big mistake, Colonel," Bates panted as he was marched out of the room. "I'm good at my job and you don't have many replacements to choose from out here!"

"Oh, somehow I think we'll manage," John snorted, and then he turned away in disgust.

He stood in the room, hands on hips, breathing heavily, trying to calm himself. He still felt angry. He felt as if he wanted to take his fist and bury it in living flesh, to hurt and lash out and destroy - and that was disturbing of and by itself. It wasn't like him - usually he was able to keep a tight lid on his emotions but there was something about this situation that was making that impossible for him right now. He didn't know why he was reacting like this - he'd seen some abusive tops in his time, had even taken one or two aside and dealt with them in person, but none of them had affected him like this. If he closed his eyes he could still see Bates advancing on Rodney, *touching* Rodney, pinning him to the wall and trying to get his collar on him. A wave of total revulsion twisted in his gut, taking John by surprise, and he leaned over and retched up his guts onto the floor of the lab. He felt as if he was being held in thrall by his own emotions, and they were eating him up, spiralling away from him. He'd never felt like this in his life before and he was so freaked out he didn't know what to do. One part of him wanted to go after Rodney, to check he was okay, but the man wasn't his sub and he had no rights over him. Another, darker, part of him wanted to go after Bates, to hold him down and kill him with his bare hands, and that disturbed him so much that he started to tremble, honestly unsure that he could control himself.

Eventually he staggered towards the door, reaching for some gum in his pocket to take the taste of vomit from his mouth. He needed to see Rodney. It was like some kind of physical imperative, and he felt utterly helpless as he followed where his emotions led, which was a new experience for him. He knocked loudly on Rodney's door, and then waited. He heard a noise inside, but nobody answered the door.

"It's me, Rodney!" he yelled. "Sheppard." He banged on the door again, and this time it was opened, and Rodney stood there, gazing at him warily. "I just…" John suddenly didn't know what to say. His eyes raked over Rodney's body, flickering over his neck, where Bates had wanted to put his collar, and he fought down another wave of nausea. "Just wanted to make sure you're okay," John managed to finish. Rodney's blue eyes were unreadable.

"I'm fine. You were the one who did all the heroics," he muttered, in a bitter tone.

"Why didn't you tell someone?" John flashed back angrily. "Why the hell didn't you come to me, or Elizabeth - or hell, even Carson, and tell us what he was doing to you all this time?"

Rodney's eyes were sullen and…ashamed? "I'm the second in command on this base. I'm not…some…some stupid kid who's just woken up to the fact he's a sub and is having to figure out how to handle the unwanted attentions of some thick-skulled top. I'm…it was…." He shook his head. "I should have been able to handle it," he muttered.

"You shouldn't have had to," Sheppard sighed, remembering what Radek had said about Rodney being a proud man. He couldn't stop himself devouring Rodney with his eyes, wanting to touch him, to own him, to claim him. The adrenaline was still running high; he was a top who'd fought another top over a sub and won…and there was something old in his blood that wanted to reach out and take his prize to his bed, to mark him with bites, to kiss him and fuck him and possess him completely, so that nobody was in any doubt as to who he belonged to, and nobody would ever try and touch him again.

"If you wanted me to thank you then…thanks," Rodney muttered gracelessly.

"I don't want your damn thanks," John growled.

"Then why are you here?" Rodney's jaw jutted out in that familiar way and John longed to grab it and kiss that crooked mouth. He could see that wouldn't work though. Rodney had just fought off the attentions of one unwanted top this evening, and he didn't look as if he was in any mood to entertain the advances of another. John's stomach contracted in need, but he was just about in control of himself enough to know that now was not the time to make any claims on Rodney. Instead he took a fierce mental grip on himself and nodded at the scientist.

"Like I said - I just wanted to see if you're okay."

"And like *I* said - I'm fine." Rodney nodded back, curtly.

"I'll speak to Elizabeth of course," John said, in a softer tone, unable to take his eyes off Rodney. "About the suspension. We need to talk about what happened. I'll arrange a meeting for tomorrow."

"I don't want anyone to know what happened," Rodney snapped.

"Well tough," John snapped back. "This has gone beyond what you want, Rodney. Elizabeth needs to know about this if she's to do her job properly."

"Great. Fine. Whatever. Can I go to bed now?"

John tried not to think about what Rodney would look like, lying naked in bed, a nice set of cuffs around his wrists.

"Sure. I'll see you tomorrow." It took every ounce of his strength to tear himself away from that door, and walk back down the hallway, away from Rodney.

Once he got to the end, he started to run, and he didn't stop until he had sprinted down to the south-west pier and was standing in a torrent of pouring rain, looking out over the black ocean. He stood there for a long time, breathing heavily, his dark hair inky-wet, but his emotions were as strong and urgent as ever. Finally, he forced himself to run again, to run so fast and pound his body so hard that he could think about nothing else except the beating of his heart and the raw wind gusting into his face, blowing sheets of rain at him. He ran and ran, hoping to outdistance his own emotions and be swallowed whole by the dark, Atlantean night.

 

~*~


	6. The Commitment Collar

It was late by the time Carson Beckett finished up at the infirmary. Bates had needed a few stitches and required quite a bit of tidying up as well. Carson still wasn't entirely sure how the man had come by his injuries - he looked as if he'd been given something of a beating, but he'd remained tight-lipped about the cause of the wounds, and the guards with him hadn't given him much of a clue, either, although Carson gathered they were there by order of Colonel Sheppard so he guessed that the colonel knew what the hell was going on, even if he didn't.

Now it was late, and Carson was so tired that he almost trod on the wet bundle of a man sitting in his doorway.

"What the…?" he began, and then he bent down and took a closer look. "Christ, John, what the hell are you doing lying here like this?" he whispered. John Sheppard looked terrible - truly the worst Carson had ever seen him. He was wet through, his black tee shirt sticking to his skin, and his dark hair wind-tousled and slick with water, but that wasn't what struck Carson most. Instead, he was drawn to the expression in the colonel's usually friendly hazel eyes. Carson winced - he recognised that look, knew, instinctively, that this was a top in trouble, and suddenly he had no doubt at all that John's current condition was directly related to Bates's injuries.

"You'd better come inside, lad," he sighed, opening the door to his quarters. John got up, stretching out those long legs of his as he pulled himself upright, and then he followed Carson into the room, dripping water as he went.

Carson didn't say a word to the man. He just guided the colonel into a chair, slung him a towel, and then, while John was towelling down, Carson brewed some tea, filled it with sugar, added a dram of whisky, and handed it to the colonel. John took a sip and then made a face. Carson shrugged.

"Drink it," he advised. It wasn't a tone of voice that anyone had ever yet refused, and even John Sheppard, confident top though he was, just got on with it and swallowed the sweet tea down in gulps. Carson found the colonel a fresh tee shirt and a pair of sweat pants and gave them to him, pointing in the direction of the bathroom. "First you get changed, then you come out here and we talk," he said firmly. John took the garments without a word, like the most obedient of subs, and disappeared into the bathroom. Carson took off his white coat, and pulled on a fresh sweater of his own. He was tired, and it was late, but somehow he thought this might take awhile. He poured himself a measure of whisky and downed it in one gulp, and then he sat down on the side of the bed and waited.

The colonel reappeared a few minutes later, and hesitated in the doorway, holding his damp, crumpled clothes.

"Leave those in the bathroom," Carson instructed. "And get yourself over here, John."  
John did as he was told and sat down on the chair by the bed. The sweatpants were too short for his long legs and his ankles poked out of the bottoms, incongruously.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to inconvenience you." His body was shaking ever so slightly, and Carson frowned and took a blanket from the bed and wrapped it around his shoulders.

"No apologies required. I'm your doctor and your friend - so it isn't an inconvenience," he said firmly. "What happened tonight, John?"

John looked up, and there was a burning expression in his eyes that Carson had never seen before. Usually the colonel was so laidback, rarely looking as if he cared about anything very deeply, but he certainly seemed to care about something right now.

"I can't control it," John said, still shivering. "I feel like…I came here because I was worried about what I'd do, Carson."

"About what you'd do…? Ah." Carson nodded. "I presume this has something to do with Bates? I've just finished with him and someone gave him a nasty beating; judging by the condition of your knuckles, that someone would be you." He glanced at the knuckles on John's right hand, which were red raw and bleeding in places. "If you're worried that you might be tempted to go back and finish the job then I think you can rest easy on that score. You posted a couple of guards on him remember?"

John nodded, his eyes hazy.

"What did he do?" Carson asked.

"Tried to force his collar on Rodney, to make him sub for him." John's hands clenched into tight fists, and Carson winced at the look in his eyes. "It's been going on for weeks, Carson - the coercion, harassment, physical intimidation - been going on right under our noses, and we didn't see it."

Carson got up, his jaw tightening. "That bloody bastard. If you hadn't already taken care of it I'd go and sort the bugger out myself," he muttered. "Is Rodney okay?" He wanted to go to his friend, to check for himself that Rodney was all right, but John's need seemed more pressing right now so he forced himself to stay.

"He's fine. He's his usually prickly self in fact." John gave a wry ghost of a grin. "But I'm not fine, Carson. I've been an idiot."

"I'm sure you have," Carson said wryly. "About what in particular?"

"About everything I think." John shook his head. "I didn't see what Bates was doing. I…punished Rodney tonight for lying to me, for leaving Bates behind when we were offworld, but I can't honestly say I blame him now that I know what was going on. What he did was wrong, of course, and I can't ever condone leaving a man behind like that, but…all the same, I can see why he did it."

"Rodney's a big boy, John," Carson told him firmly. "If the punishment was unjustified he could have argued his case but he gave you nothing."

"He was ashamed." John fastened his fingers around his cup and stared into the dregs.

"Is it guilt you're feeling? Is that why you're here?" Carson asked, hoping that wasn't the case. If John wanted some kind of punishment to relieve his emotions then he'd do it - he'd done it for other tops before - but it wasn't something he enjoyed.

"No." John shook his head. "I can't keep the feelings under control, Carson. I…I've never felt like this before and it's driving me insane. When I saw him just now…oh christ, I want him, Carson. I want him so much it *hurts*."

Carson rocked back on his heels and gazed at the colonel. He wasn't surprised by this news, but he was surprised by how John was handling it.

"It's all I can think about. Touching him, claiming him, kissing him…I feel like if I can't have him it'll kill me. When Bates tried to put his collar on him…." John got up, and slammed his fist against the wall. Carson winced - John's knuckles were already torn so that had to hurt. "If anyone touches him I don't know what I'll do. How can I work with him?" John asked in despair. "If we're out in the field and he gets hurt, or if someone threatens him…how will I be able to control myself?"

"You'll learn," Carson said, in a hard tone. "You'll learn because you have to. Now come here and sit down." He got out the emergency medical kit he kept in his nightstand and beckoned the colonel over. There was no use soft-soaping the man, and sending him on his way with platitudes. John had a real problem, and it was one that Carson had encountered before, so he wasn't going to make light of it. Some tops, usually those at the more dominant end of the spectrum, *did* find it hard dealing with the strength of their emotions towards their subs. He was just surprised that John, of all people, felt this way, and the man would need real, hard-headed support, if he was going to handle it.

John did as he was told, and Carson took hold of his hand and examined the knuckles.

"Well I don't think anything's broken," he said, wiping some gel over John's hand and reaching for a bandage.

"Have you ever felt like this?" John asked. "Christ, what's going on. Why can't I…?" He pulled his hand away, got up again, and started pacing impatiently around the room like a caged panther.

"Sit down, Colonel. Now," Carson ordered, in as hard a tone as he possessed. John gave a low growl, but did as he was told, and Carson finished bandaging up his hand. "I know it hurts - oh, not your knuckles - how you're feeling - but you've got no choice but to learn to live with it, John, because it won't be going anywhere," Carson told him firmly.

"You don't know what it damn well feels like!"

"No, I don't. That's not to say I've never had moments of romantic despair," Carson grinned, "But no. I've never experienced what you're going through, but I do know you can control it."

"How?" John asked bleakly. "Damn it, Carson, what's happening to me? Why do I feel like this?"

Carson gazed at him for a moment and then burst out laughing. John glared at him.

"I'm sorry, laddie," Carson sighed, shaking his head. "I didn't realise. You don't know, do you, John?"

"Know what?" John gazed at him blankly.

"You're in love, John. That's what you're feeling. You told me that you'd never been in love before – well, this is how it feels for you."

"I'm in love? With Rodney?" John looked so surprised that Carson had to bite on his lip to stop himself laughing again.

"Yes, John. With Rodney," he grinned. "I know he's not someone you'd probably actually *choose*, but it seems as if your heart's ignoring your brain on this because you are head over heels in love with him. I suspect you have been for some time but just didn't want to face up to it until events forced you to sit up, and take notice. And to be honest, I think your brain's got it wrong because you and Rodney would make a good couple. You're calm - well, usually anyway - and he's excitable. He's smart - but you're smart enough to keep up with him, which god knows he needs. You're laidback enough not to crush all the spirit out of him, and he's interesting enough to keep you always entertained."

"He's also arrogant, argumentative, and sarcastic," John pointed out.

"Aye, and loyal, brave, and funny," Carson replied. John sighed and buried his head in his hands.

"Did you think it was just a sex thing?" Carson asked. "That all you had to do was fuck him and then you'd feel all right again?"

"I don't know. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I just knew I had all these…goddamn *feelings* and they wouldn't go away. You sure there's nothing you can give me for this, Doc?" He gave Carson a hopeless kind of smile.

"I'm afraid I can think of only one cure, laddie," Carson grinned, patting his arm affectionately.

John shook his head and groaned. "He'll barely speak to me," he sighed. "I just broke him with a punishment I'm sure he feels he didn't deserve, he's just been relentlessly pursued by an abusive top who wouldn't take no for an answer, and he's told me point blank he likes being single and he doesn't want, and I quote, 'some stupid dominant marching around giving me orders'. What the hell chance do I have of changing his mind?"

"Well…I know you've not had much experience in this field, but speaking as one not as naturally gifted in the looks department, or as effortlessly charismatic as yourself, I can tell you that romancing a sub is an art form of and by itself, and one I'd be happy to give you some pointers in," Carson said.

"Romancing?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Aye," Carson grinned. "I know, it's a whole new world for you, laddie. They usually fall at your feet in droves, but this particular sub will be worth the effort, I'm sure."

"How do you know that?" John asked.

"Because you love him." Carson shrugged. "It's as simple as that."

"Supposing I'm crap at this romancing thing?" John asked, and Carson smiled to himself because he'd never have thought that John Sheppard of all people would lack confidence in affairs of the heart.

"Supposing he turns me down, Carson? Supposing I can never have him?" His voice broke a little as he said that.

"Then you'll have to live with that," Carson shrugged. "The days are long gone when a top could just claim an un-collared sub and take them by force."

"I'd never force anyone!" John said, in an angry tone.

"Calm down, laddie. I know that." Carson patted John's arm again. "But as for Rodney turning you down - why would he? You're a good-looking man and most of the subs on this base would offer themselves to you given half the chance. You just have to work at it. You've already won his trust, John - I've seen the way he looks at you, and he might fight it but he has learned to trust you. Now you have to court him."

"Court him? Who says that any more, Carson?" John grinned, shaking his head.

"Well, I'm Scottish, and my mam often talked of courting my dad. I like it," Carson replied, smiling. John's grin faded, and he looked thoughtful.

"Okay. I'll court him, for want of a better word, Carson. I'll do anything it takes. I want him - not just for a quick fuck but for good. I've never put a collar on anyone, never shared a plate, or done any of those things. I've never *wanted* to - but…I want to with Rodney." John shook his head, looking somewhat amazed by this revelation. Carson smiled.

"Aye, well, love can take the best of us by surprise, lad," he said, feeling a little pang, and suddenly envying his friend his new found love. Was there anyone out there for *him* he wondered? He'd taken subs before, many of them, had even fallen in love with some of them, and had his heart broken by a couple of them, but he'd never found the right person. Someone to settle down and grow old with. Someone to put his collar on and share a plate with. He'd always hoped he'd get married one day but he was getting older and there was no sign of anyone on the horizon. He wasn't looking for the perfect sub - just the perfect sub for *him*. He sighed.

"You know, John, you have no idea how lucky you are," he said. "You might be hurting right now but you can make this come right."

"You won't tell Rodney?" There was a note of anxiety in John's voice.

"No. I won't tell anyone. Now…it's getting late and I think we both need some sleep. Do you trust yourself to go back to your room and get some rest?"

John took a deep breath, and then nodded.

"Any problems, just call me." Carson gestured to his headset which was lying on the nightstand.

John got up. "I will. And…thanks, Carson," he said awkwardly. Carson just shook his head and pulled the colonel into a brief hug before releasing him and booting him out of the door.

 

~*~

 

John returned to his quarters feeling much happier than he had before he'd gone to see Carson. So, he was in love. At least that made sense of all the wild emotions he seemed to be experiencing, and at least he had a chance of doing something about it. He thought of Rodney, wondering what it would be like to claim the scientist for his own, to quell those restless hands by placing them in cuffs, and to silence those endlessly talking lips with a long, deep kiss. John had topped many subs in his time, but he'd never claimed one for his own, or demanded any kind of submission outside the duration of a sex game. He'd never wanted to, never been remotely interested in assuming all the responsibilities and pleasures that came from putting a collar on another human being. He thought he was a good top - he knew tricks that made his subs sigh with pleasure and kiss his feet in gratitude, but he'd always kind of played at it before. This was different. This felt serious. This went way beyond sex and into new territory completely, and he didn't want to screw it up.

He wanted Rodney but he wanted his heart and soul as well as his body. He wanted to see those blue eyes gaze up at him with trust, love, and affection, and he knew this was too important to fuck up by moving too fast, or demanding too much, too soon. Rodney was special. He wasn't the easy lay John was used to. He'd need time, need to be gentled like a spirited colt, need to be loved into submission. That's where Bates had got it all so very wrong. Rodney couldn't be harried or coerced - he had to be won, like the prize he was, and John was determined that he'd do it, however long it took. One day he'd take Rodney McKay to his bed and make him his, and if it was the hardest thing he ever did he didn't care because it was also the most important thing he'd ever do, and he'd damn well do it right.

John went over to his closet and took out a small box. He'd carried it on all his postings but hadn't looked at it in years. His fathers had given it to him on his twenty-first birthday, just a few weeks before they'd died. John thought of Rodney, losing both his parents at an even younger age, and he wondered if that accounted for some of his attraction to the brilliant if wayward scientist. It was something they had in common, and although John suspected they came from very different families, it gave them a kind of connection.

John opened up the box and looked at the collar lying inside on a bed of silk. It wasn't a wedding collar - you would only ever fashion a wedding collar for your sub's specific measurements and to your own personal tastes - but it was a commitment collar. Some people might call it a training collar but John had never liked that term. If he ever put a collar on a sub it wouldn't be to train them – it would be to show them they were loved, and to show the world who they belonged to, making it clear to other tops that this particular sub was most definitely not unclaimed.

The collar was a thick strip of white gold, sturdy enough to take a leash if you wanted to attach one, but slim enough to lie easily against the neck. Commitment collars took many forms, but this one was a very fine piece of jewellery. John slid his fingers over the collar, caressing it. He'd never taken much interest in it before, perhaps because he'd never been remotely interested in collaring a sub before. Putting a collar on a sub was a huge deal and it wasn't anything John had ever fantasised about. In his view it was mainly subs that made a big issue out of being collared, and he could point to a plethora of movies on the subject to prove his point, but now, for the first time in his life, he suddenly wondered what it would be like to place his collar around a sub's neck and have the right to claim that sub as his own. He had a mental image of Rodney, kneeling in front of him, blue eyes gazing sweetly up at him, and he shivered, surprised by the raw force of his own sexual response to that image.

He knew that one of his own fathers - his biological father, Adam - had worn this collar, briefly, before accepting his other father's wedding collar. John hadn't thought about his parents for a long time, not because he hadn't loved them but because their loss still hurt in some place deep inside. He thought he'd walled off that part of his heart until tonight, outside in the dark and the rain, when he'd come to understand that there were some emotions you could never outdistance, no matter how fast or how far you ran.

He remembered Adam - tall and dark haired, with an impish grin that charmed everyone except his other father, Gil, who would see through it, shake his head, pull Adam close, and scold him while laughing affectionately the whole time. Gil had been broad and blond, muscular and stocky. The Sheppards were an old, military family, and they did things the time-honoured way, opting for only the most traditional of marriages and living their lives by the vows they made to each other. They had met in the military when Adam had been a raw recruit, eighteen years old and full of potential, and Gil was his lieutenant, four years' older, with an outer toughness that hid a kind heart because he was the gentlest man John had ever known. It had been a love match that never wavered in the thirty years they were together, right up until their deaths. The mission they'd been on was classified, and to this day John had never uncovered the full details, but he did know that Adam's unit had gone missing behind enemy lines, and Gil had gone back for him. The Sheppards never left anyone behind - it was the golden rule that John had been brought up with. Gil had been injured in the rescue attempt and Adam had carried him home, desperately trying to keep him alive through the lifebond they shared. Gil had fought to live, but he had massive internal injuries and he'd died in Adam's arms in the hospital. Nobody knew precisely how the lifebond worked, whether it was the shock of its loss that killed the surviving partner, or whether the bond was so strong they had no choice but to follow their bonded mate into death, but Adam had died just moments later, lying on Gil's hospital bed, their bodies entwined. They had been buried together at Arlington.

John fingered the collar thoughtfully. The pain of his loss still hurt, even after a lifetime of suppressing it, and John realised now why he never looked at this collar. He hadn't understood how love could be so strong that a person could die of its loss. Secretly, John had always wondered whether it was essentially selfish to lifebond with another - especially when you had a child. True, he'd been technically an adult when his parents had died, but he had still felt that his heart had been ripped out of his body, leaving him raw with pain. John had always distrusted love after that, fighting shy of any emotion that could leave such devastation in his wake. He'd joined the Airforce, because he couldn't imagine doing anything else, but he tried not to think about the men who had loved and raised him, and had avoided loving anyone else since their deaths, wanting to spare himself the pain that came with losing people you care about so much.

Only love had found him anyway, and he was discovering that it hurt every bit as much as he'd always feared - but also that it brought with it an intoxication all of its own.

John replaced the collar gently in its box, and instead of putting it back in the closet, he placed it on his nightstand, where he could see it. It was time, he thought. Past time, maybe. In his mind's eye he could see both his fathers playing with him in the park. He could see Gil throwing him into the air and catching him safely in his strong hands, and remembered how Adam's dark hair would flop into his eyes as he bent to scoop a giggling John into his arms. John thought about the way that Gil would always wrap his arm around Adam's waist and slide his hand down the back of his jeans and just rest it there, laying claim to him, and making sure the world knew who he belonged to, and his heart suddenly ached. Damnit, he *missed* them. But that was only one part of the ache - the other part, both more urgent and more painful, was the knowledge that he wanted that kind of love for himself.

John took off the clothes he'd borrowed from Carson and slid into bed, feeling surprisingly calm and relaxed. Now he *knew* what was going on for him he could stop fighting it and just think about how good it would feel to curl his fingers in Rodney's soft hair, to press his lips against Rodney's crooked mouth, and to sink his cock into Rodney's beautiful round ass. He remembered that ass lying over his lap just a few short hours ago, how he'd wanted to stroke and caress it, and how right Rodney had felt bent over his knee, submissive and accepting, and he went to sleep with a smile curving on his lips.

He was woken, several hours later, by an urgent knocking on the door and he got up and staggered, bleary-eyed, to open it. Carson was standing there, a worried look in his blue eyes.

"Is Rodney in here?" he asked, glancing over John's shoulder at the empty bed behind him.

"I'm afraid not." John frowned. "Why? Has something happened to him?"

"I don't know. I went to his room as soon as I thought he'd be up - he keeps some very strange hours - but there was nobody there. I went to the lab, the mess hall…kept trying on his radio but there's no reply. After what you told me about what happened last night…I'm a wee bit worried about him." Carson's forehead was wrinkled up in concern, and John felt his stomach do a little flip. If anything had happened to Rodney….

He turned and grabbed his own radio from the nightstand to check first of all that Bates was accounted for, but he was told that the corporal hadn't left his room all night.

"Where can he be?" Carson fretted, pacing the room frantically while John pulled on his BDUs.

"I don't know." John shook his head furiously.

"I should have checked on him last night. I was going to but you said he was okay…."

"I thought he was!" John growled. "I went to see him and he bit my head off as usual. No change there."

"We should have thought though," Carson sighed.

"I know." John was kicking himself over and over again. He knew what a proud man Rodney was, and first he'd broken down his barriers with that punishment, forcing him to give in and cry which must have been the last thing he wanted to do, and then he'd witnessed that grotesque scene with Bates and that obscene training collar…. It would hardly be surprising if Rodney had felt unable to cope with the evening's events but…where would he go?

John finished dressing and then ran down the hallway towards Rodney's quarters, with Carson hard on his heels. He easily opened the door with a mental flick and charged inside…and then stopped. Rodney wasn't a very tidy person, and his room was strewn with laptops and page upon page of notes. There was a Rodney-sized dent on the middle of the clearly un-slept in bed, and dozens of sheets of paper lying on the floor. John frowned and picked up the notes from the floor.

"Looks like he was lying here, hanging over the end of the bed, working on these," John said.

"Aye, and no doubt into the early hours if I know Rodney," Carson said, peering over John's shoulders to read the notes.

"These are the transcripts he took off that temple," John said slowly.

"When Rodney is really in a bad way he has a tendency to throw himself into his work and try and block everything else out," Carson said, glancing around the room, looking for more clues. "Perhaps we should get Radek to decipher the notes?" he suggested to John.

John shook his head. It wasn't easy following Rodney's scrawl, but he wasn't stupid, and he got the gist of what was in them.

"Oh shit," he said, stuffing the notes in his pocket and running for the door.

"What is it? What did you find?" Carson said, running after him.

"Rodney thinks he's found the location of a ZPM," John said, as he ran for the gateroom.

"But…are you saying…surely…he wouldn't have gone there…alone?" Carson puffed. "Why would he do that?"

"Because everything fell apart for him last night, and this…this was his way of trying to piece some of himself back together again," John said grimly.

They got to the gateroom and John ran up the stairs two at a time to find the nightwatch gate technicians sitting at their post.

"Have you seen Dr McKay?" he demanded.

They looked at each other, and then back at him. "Yes, sir. He went through the gate," one of them offered, stammering slightly in the face of John's brusque and agitated manner.

"When?" John demanded.

"About four hours ago, sir," the other one said.

"And you didn't think that was odd?" John growled. "That he'd go through the gate in the middle of the night?"

"Well, it was Dr McKay," the first one muttered. "And everyone knows he does weird shit."

"He had security clearance," the second one added. "It's not up to us to tell a senior member of this expedition that he can't go through the gate."

"And we have protocols," John fumed. "Lady Elizabeth approves all offworld trips."

"Dr McKay was very insistent," the first one said, looking panicked.

"Plus…he kind of yelled at us," said the second. "And you know how he can be when he does that."

John sighed. Yeah, he knew just how Dr Rodney McKay in full sarcasm mode must have come over to these two.

"Have you heard from him since then?" Carson asked, coming up behind John and putting a hand on John's shoulder, calming him. The technicians looked at each other blankly.

"He called to say he was through okay," one of them said.

"And you've heard nothing since?" It was all John could do not to grab them both by their shirts and bang their heads together. He liked working with scientists but god knows he sometimes wondered how they got by with so little common sense.

"Um…no," they replied, looking a little sheepish.

"Dial up his destination. We're going through," John said, turning.

"Aye, that we are," Carson said. "And let Elizabeth know what's happening, lads - okay?"

"And if we don't call in every hour, on the hour, then for god's sakes get Lorne to send a unit of marines after us!" John snapped, running for the gate.

"Just a second, Colonel. I'm not going offworld without a medical kit," Carson said, trotting down the steps towards the storage hatch where they kept emergency offworld provisions. John growled, hating any delay, but Carson was right, and he waited, impatiently, by the gate, as Carson grabbed a kit and checked the contents. John tried to keep a tight clamp on his emotions, recognising that if he wasn't careful they could spiral out of control, as they had the previous evening, and he took a few deep breaths, trying to focus. He'd be no good to Rodney if he was all over the place, and, as Carson had so rightly pointed out, he had to learn how to live with all these new feelings, had to master them and make them work for him, or he'd end up being a total mess. Finally, Carson was ready, and he took his place by John's side, a grim but determined look on his face. John remembered how little Carson liked going through the wormhole, and he knew that only the thought of Rodney being in danger was spurring the doctor on right now.

They ran through the gate, and John immediately tapped his radio. "Rodney?" he yelled. It was night on the planet, and the trees were swaying in a high wind, making the whole place seem eerie. The radio crackled but there was no reply.

"Sounds like…" Carson hesitated, frowning, concentrating on the sound.

"Sounds like someone tried to reply but the signal's not getting through, yes," John agreed.   
"Rodney?" He tried again, to be greeted by another burst of static that might, just, have been the sound of someone's voice. John pulled out his lifesigns detector but all he could see were a series of blurry dots that merged into one another.

"Electrical storm!" Carson yelled over the sound of the wind and rain.

"Yeah. Then we're going to have to do this the hard way," John yelled back, pulling out the sheaf of papers from his jacket pocket. There wasn't much to go on, and John guessed that Rodney had taken the most relevant papers with him, but he was at least confident of the general direction to head in. They half-walked, half-ran through the storm, with John pausing to tap his radio every few strides. After a couple of miles of this, John paused, picking up a faint response in his ear.

"Rodney?"

Static. And then, faintly. "…ruins we…east…shit…ow, ow…."

"Rodney?!" John roared over the sound of the wind in the trees.

"That was definitely him," Carson said. "Sounds like his radio isn't working properly."

"Or something's interfering with the signal - maybe the closer we are to him the better we'll be able to hear him," John replied. "It sounded like he was telling us to go east of the ruined temple."

"Could be - it's all we've got to go on," Carson shrugged. They turned and headed east, with John keeping the radio channel open the entire time. The signal grew stronger as they jogged.

"Rodney? Come on, buddy, keep talking," John yelled, fighting to be heard over the driving wind. He didn't damn well fall in love with someone just to lose him before he'd even had a chance to kiss him! That was not damn well going to happen!

"…Colonel…found…then…stupid…fell…dark…stupid…."

"Do you have a gun?" John shouted into the radio, hoping that Rodney could hear him better than he could hear Rodney. "If so, fire it up into the air, away from you."

They paused, and a few seconds later they heard a faint sound in the distance. John broke into a run, heading towards the sound, his heart pounding in his chest. He jumped over fallen tree trunks, and ducked under branches, running as fast as he could, panicked by the thought of Rodney lying injured somewhere. He paused for a moment, and called into the radio again, but this time when he heard the reply it wasn't via the radio - he could hear Rodney's voice, somewhere nearby, shouting for help. Carson caught up with him a few seconds later and they scoured the area by flashlight.

"Over here." The voice sounded surprisingly close, and John turned and the beam of his flashlight fell on a bedraggled figure lying at the bottom of a small ravine. John's heart did a surprisingly exuberant somersault in his chest, and he scrambled towards the scientist. He was half-running, half-sliding down the side of the ravine, getting caked in mud and leaves as he went, leaving Carson trailing far behind in his eagerness to get to Rodney.

John reached the bottom of the ravine and then ran over to where Rodney was lying beneath a tree, clutching his ankle. There was a dark smudge of dirt down one side of his face and a deep wound that was oozing copious amounts of blood on his forehead. John skidded to a halt beside him, suddenly realising that despite the fact that every nerve-ending in his body was screaming out to grab Rodney in his arms and kiss him, the scientist had no idea how he felt and would probably be extremely alarmed if he did any such thing. So John went for the next best thing instead.

"Damnit what is it with you?" he scolded. "Do you go looking for trouble or what?"

"I wasn't looking for trouble, no," Rodney replied, in a weary but happy tone. "I was looking for a ZPM and…guess what?" He gave a triumphant smile and pulled something out of his backpack. "Da-nah!"

"You found it? You found a ZPM?" John reached out and tousled Rodney's hair affectionately, trying hard not to think about how much he wanted to kiss him right now.

"That's right. I was reading through my notes, you see, and then it suddenly just hit me where the ZPM had to be, and I had to come here and find it. I would have been fine as well if one of those stupid bat creatures hadn't flown straight at me, making me fall down this ravine. My radio was semi-busted in the process and…ow!" Rodney let out a howl as Carson reached them, and began examining his obviously hurt ankle.

"That's a bad sprain you've got there, laddie, but I don't think anything's broken," Carson said.   
"Although I'll certainly be happy to break that thick skull of yours when we get you home. What were you thinking, Rodney, taking off like that?" He moved up to examine Rodney's head wound.

"I was thinking I'd bring back a ZPM," Rodney scowled. "Which we need to, you know, get the city's shield working and protect us from the scary, life-sucking, monster people."

"What, you couldn't wait until morning and then get the team to come out looking for it?" Carson asked, frowning as he pressed a dressing onto Rodney's forehead.

Rodney shrugged, and gazed mutinously at the floor. "Suspended remember? I didn't know if I was on the team any more, and I didn't trust anyone else to bring this back," he muttered, gesturing with his head at the ZPM.

John leaned forward. "You're still on the team, Rodney," he said, directly into Rodney's ear. "But if you're going to *stay* on the team then we really need to work on a few basic rules. One of which is that you don't go anywhere without me."

He felt a little tug inside as he said that. If he could just damn well put a collar and leash on this man then he'd make sure he didn't go anywhere without him ever again.

"Hah." Rodney just made a face at him. John put a hand on his arm and Rodney went curiously still.

"I mean it, Rodney. Don't mess with me on this," he warned. Rodney gazed at him, a suddenly panicked look in his eyes, and John knew that they were both thinking about that punishment he'd handed out the previous evening. Then John smiled. "I'm glad you're safe, Rodney," he said softly, reaching out to brush some of the mud off Rodney's cheek with a gentle stroke of his thumb. "Now…let's get you home shall we?"

He glanced at Carson, who had finished with Rodney's forehead and was now busy bandaging up his sprained ankle.

"Is he okay to travel?" John asked.

"Well, we'll never get a puddle jumper through these trees, and a gurney will take too long - he's already in shock and I want to examine that head wound properly - it looks nasty," Carson replied. "So I think helping him back to the gate between us would be the lesser of two evils."

"Okay then." John looked at Rodney, who seemed paler than ever now that Carson had enunciated his injuries so succinctly. "Rodney - stay with us," he ordered. Rodney blinked and nodded, and John squeezed his arm gently, trying to reassure him.

He put an arm around Rodney's body and pulled him to his feet, and then slung one of Rodney's arms over his shoulder. Rodney was unable to put much weight on his ankle, and, despite the makeshift compress Carson had placed on his head wound, blood was soaking through the bandage and he was clearly concussed, his pale face shining with sweat. He wasn't going to be up to doing much by way of walking so they'd have to support his weight between them. John fastened his arm more tightly around Rodney's body, securing him, while Carson took up position on the other side. This was going to be a long, slow journey, and John felt guilty for liking the feel of Rodney's warm body against his own, and the way he smelled, nestled so close.

John felt another of those strange, protective urges sweeping through his body, starting in his gut and spreading out to flood him with warmth. God, he wanted this man so much. He'd throw himself in front of any danger to keep him safe, battle any kinds of monsters this godforsaken galaxy threw at him just to be by his side. Earlier, when he thought they'd lost him… John pushed that thought away and ghosted a gentle caress along Rodney's hand with his thumb. I want you, a voice inside him said. I want you…I want you…I want you…. It repeated over and over again in his head, like a mantra, all the way back to the gate.

Elizabeth was waiting for them with a hundred questions when they stepped through the gate, and pandemonium broke out as Carson insisted, furiously, on taking Rodney to the infirmary while Rodney insisted, equally furiously, on installing the new ZPM immediately.

"Radek can do that," John pointed out.

"It's *my* ZPM!" Rodney snapped, holding it close to his chest like a baby. "I get to do it!" He jutted out his jaw obstinately, and John was about to tell him not to be an idiot when he saw a look in Rodney's eyes that stopped him. This was about Rodney's pride, and John felt he'd dented that enough in the past 24 hours - what would a small delay matter, if it gave Rodney back some of what he'd lost?

"We're taking him downstairs," he said to Carson, ignoring the doctor's immediate protest. Rodney gave him a surprised, grateful smile, and they shared a tiny moment, then John hauled Rodney's arm over his shoulder again, and they began walking.

Carson ran in front of them and planted himself in their way. "What the hell do you think you're playing at, Colonel!" he protested. "Rodney has a serious head injury!"

"And we've just walked him for three miles through a fucking great storm!" John snapped. "Another five minutes won't make much difference."

"Oh, so you're the doctor now are you, laddie?" Carson fumed.

"Please. Carson." John looked at him beseechingly. "Come with us, keep close and whisk him off to the infirmary the minute he's done, but please let him do this."

Carson considered it for a moment, his eyes raking anxiously over Rodney's wounded head. John bit on his lip - the last thing he wanted to do was endanger Rodney's life, but he felt they'd all been ignoring Rodney's needs for long enough, and this was important, damnit!

"All right," Carson said at last. "But I'm hauling him to the infirmary if his condition deteriorates, no matter what."

"Deal," John said, giving him a grateful nod.

Elizabeth trailed on behind them, demanding to know what the hell was going on, but John didn't say a word as he helped Rodney down to the power generator and propped him up on a chair beside it. It only took a couple of minutes for Rodney to install the ZPM, and then he leaned back, gave John a triumphant smile, pressed a button and…nothing happened.

"Oh fuck," Rodney sighed.

"Rodney?" John looked at the ZPM and then back at the scientist. Rodney looked as if he'd shrunk, as if he'd kind of crumpled, all the triumphant happiness of earlier ebbing visibly from his body, leaving him sagging in its wake.

"No power." Rodney gave a bitter little laugh. "All out of juice. Probably has been for millennia. Christ, I've been a total idiot."

"You couldn't have known, laddie," Carson said sympathetically. Rodney's blue eyes looked completely devastated and John felt the blow with him. There was silence for a moment, as they all took in the news, and then Rodney's eyes rolled back in his head and he swayed in his chair. John ran forward and caught him just before he fell. He held Rodney tight and lowered him to the floor while Carson called into his radio for a gurney.

"John, what the hell is going on?" Elizabeth demanded as they waited for the medical team. "Why were you all offworld without my permission? How did Rodney get injured? And why have I had *Corporal* Bates in my office complaining that you busted him down a rank because of some fight the two of you had over a sub?"

John barely heard her as he cradled Rodney's head in his hands. The scientist was out cold, and under the bright Atlantean lights John saw that his head wound was much nastier than he'd realised. He felt his gut clench and he wanted to be physically sick. Carson was there, making reassuring noises, but there was little he could do until they got Rodney to the infirmary.

"John?" Elizabeth pulled him away as the medical team arrived and bustled around Rodney. "I want you in my office, now. I want an explanation and it'd better damn well be a good one! Carson - I want a full medical report on Rodney as soon as you've treated him," she said, before turning on her heel and leaving, every line of her body screaming her fury.

John gazed after her, and then gazed at Rodney, helplessly, as he was transported in the opposite direction. Carson patted his arm.

"Go tell her what's been happening, John," he said. "You can't help Rodney right now and I'll need space to work on him - I hate it when people's partners get underfoot when I'm trying to do my job."

"He's not my partner," John sighed, gazing longingly after the gurney.

"Not yet." Carson grinned and patted his arm again. "He's in good hands. Now go," he ordered, before running after his medical team.

Elizabeth gazed at him with furious eyes as John followed her into her office and shut the door behind him. He took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," he said first, in an attempt to diffuse her anger. "I know this all looks completely crazy and I apologise for not keeping you in the loop but I had no idea that things would escalate like this."

"Explain." She sat down at her desk and looked at him expectantly. "Why is Rodney injured? What happened to him? And how the hell does Bates fit into all this?"

John felt his jaw tighten at Bates's name. "Bates was a catalyst," he said, trying to keep a check on his temper.

"He says you gave him a thrashing yesterday evening - and I have to say he didn't exactly look pretty. Did you do that to him, John? I can't condone that kind of behaviour on this expedition!" Her eyes flashed angrily.

"With all due respect, how I discipline my men is my business," John snapped at her.

"Discipline is one thing - order him to be punished if need be - but he just looked beat up to me and that's something else," she snapped back. "He's saying that you demoted him because of a private matter that had nothing to with his job. There was something about an argument over an un-collared sub?"

"So he came crying to you?" John shook his head. "Man, he's a whiner - he's whined to you all the way along and he's still doing it."

"And you still haven't given me any answers!" Elizabeth retorted.

"He's playing you! Playing us! The way he has since we arrived!" John told her angrily. "Maybe this will make more sense to you when I tell you that the sub in question, the sub he's talking about, the one we were supposedly fighting over, was Rodney."

That brought her up short. She stared at him, frowning, and then shook her head.

"Rodney? He doesn't even like Rodney. The two of them have been at loggerheads for weeks."

"No. What's been happening is that Bates has been harassing Rodney for weeks - in private, behind closed doors, no witnesses. He had one of those choke collars, the kind they tried to ban? I found him last night trying to make Rodney wear it. If Rodney agreed, Bates was, very kindly, going to help him get his job back."

"What?" Elizabeth looked completely aghast. John wasn't surprised. Abusive tops weren't very common in their society – part of the genetic imperative that led someone to identify as a top in the first place usually also made them protective and caring towards their subs. John wasn't sure why Bates had got it so wrong but there was something about the man that he couldn't put his finger on – something unsettling.

"That's partly why Rodney has been acting out. Bates has been applying the heat and Rodney has been exploding - only we haven't seen the heat, only the explosions, so they weren't making any sense to us. I don't think it's all been about Bates, but, like I said, he's been the catalyst," John told her.

"So you kicked Bates's ass and busted him down to corporal?" Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. John shrugged. He didn't care if she disapproved of his methods - Bates had deserved a damn good hiding and John didn't regret giving it to him.

"Too damn right I did."

"Good," Elizabeth said, in a low, heartfelt tone. John looked up, startled. "I have issues with abusive tops," Elizabeth explained, with a tight little smile. "And I particularly have issues if Rodney is the sub involved. Besides, as you said, how you discipline your men is your concern, Colonel. I'm certainly not going to interfere. I will say that we're all alone out here so we have to learn to live with Bates somehow. I'll also point out that we need all the good men we can get, and Bates was always very efficient at his job."

"I'll promote someone to take his place," John told her.

"Do you have someone in mind?"

John thought of Hicks, earnest and eager to learn - he'd been impressed by him over the past few weeks. "I have someone with definite potential, yes," he said.

"And as for Rodney…he and I go back a long way," she sighed. "I feel like I've let him down."

"He didn't give us a whole lot to go on," John told her. "But I know what you mean - I feel the same."

"And that leads us onto his current condition and your unauthorised trip offworld," she said. "I know our relationship has been a little dysfunctional lately, but Rodney is both vital to this expedition and pretty special to me personally, John, so I hope you have a damn good explanation for the way he looked just now."

John was startled by her vehemence. Maybe there was just something about Rodney, he thought, something not immediately obvious to the casual observer who might only see Rodney's bluster, sarcasm and arrogance, because all the strongest tops on this base seemed to feel protective towards him - although he was pretty sure that Rodney wouldn't thank them for the sentiment. John nodded and took a deep breath. "Okay," he said, before launching into a thorough account of exactly what had happened.

 

~*~

 

Rodney woke a few hours later and blinked, several times, wondering where the hell he was. He hurt. His head was pounding, his ankle throbbed and he felt nauseous. His ass ached too and he wondered why…and then the memories of the past 24 hours flooded back in and he gave a little groan. He wasn't even sure where to start with all the humiliating and unpleasant things that had happened to him over the past day, although his sore ass seemed as good a place as any. Damnit, had he *really* broken down and cried like a baby as a result of a simple hand spanking? His pride really didn't want to let him go *there*. And then having Colonel Sheppard rescue him from that humiliating encounter with Bates and his damn training collar…. And then falling down that stupid ravine and hurting himself - no wonder he felt as if it'd been hit by a truck. None of the aches and pains in his body mattered though, because he hurt more inside. It had been a ZPM, and he had been so sure it would buy him back some of the respect he felt he'd slowly been losing over the previous weeks. The sense of disappointment was hollow in his gut. Everything he touched at the moment seemed to go wrong, and he was so tired of it all.

"Hey. You're awake." Carson's blue eyes were gazing at him affectionately. "Idiot," Carson added for good measure. Rodney managed a faded smile.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"If you were mine, I'd wait until you got better and then give you the spanking of your life for the stunt you pulled last night," Carson told him, but the fond look in his eyes, and the reassuring hand he had on Rodney's shoulder, belied the sternness of his words. Rodney blinked, suddenly realising that he missed having a top to watch out for him. Not that he'd ever really experienced that - he was too much the egotist, too smart and too independent to take kindly to any attempt by his tops to rein him in. He thought it must be nice if you could trust someone enough to let them do that for you, but trust had never come easily to him. Right now though, he wished there was someone he could lean on, someone he could sink back against and let them take care of him. He was so damn tired.

"Oh I'm sure the inevitable punishment isn't too far off," he muttered. He'd sneaked offworld without permission after all, causing Carson and Sheppard to risk their lives chasing after him. He couldn't imagine that Elizabeth was best pleased with him right now - although maybe if he'd brought back a functioning ZPM, and if he hadn't been stupid enough to get himself injured, maybe then she'd be less angry with him. He just hoped she wouldn't appoint the colonel to take care of it. He wasn't sure he could face that. Sheppard had a way of getting under his skin and making him face himself, and that hurt more than any punishment ever could.

Carson was gazing at him sympathetically, his hand squeezing Rodney's arm. "How are you feeling, Rodney?" he asked. "You gave us all quite a scare back there, laddie. Now, you've got a nasty head wound. I've sutured it but I want to keep you here, under observation, for a couple of days."

"Oh god." Rodney tried to sit up, encountered a wave of nausea, and put his head back down again. Carson shook his head.

"No sudden movements - you need to take it easy for a few days."

"No laptop then?" Rodney asked hopefully.

"What do you think, laddie?" Carson rolled his eyes at him.

"I think you always call me laddie when you're being particularly bossy," Rodney retorted.

"Aye, laddie," Carson grinned. "Just so long as you remember that this is my infirmary and I'm in charge here. I know what a terrible patient you are, and I don't want any of your usual moping and complaining."

"I don't mope *or* complain. I just voice my perfectly reasonable protests about…" Rodney began, and then he caught the extremely no-nonsense look in Carson's eyes and he didn't risk continuing down that path. "Oh never mind," he sighed into his pillow. "I'll just lie here and be bored for days on end."

"Good." Carson smiled brightly. "Although I doubt you'll be all that bored. There's a whole list of people who want to visit you."

Rodney frowned. He thought it *should* be the case that people would want to visit him but seeing as he seemed to be on disastrous terms with most of the base, half of whom happily turned out to jeer at him whenever he was being punished, he *really* didn't think that was likely.

"Who?" he asked suspiciously.

"First up is Colonel Sheppard," Carson said brightly, and then he disappeared before Rodney could protest. Rodney glared after him. He felt uncomfortable talking to Sheppard for a whole host of reasons, but it seemed he had no choice because the colonel sauntered in a few minutes later, in that laconic way he had, sat down on the chair beside the bed and put those long legs of his up on the mattress. He looked tired, and his ridiculous dark hair was all mussed up as if he'd just spent hours running his hands through it and disturbing the truckloads of gel he must have to apply to it each day.

"So, how you feeling, Rodney?" he asked.

"Terrible," Rodney snapped.

"You look pretty crappy," Sheppard told him. "Oh. Here. Teyla sent these along." He dumped a bag on the bed beside Rodney, and Rodney peered into it suspiciously.

"What are they?" he asked.

"Some kind of Athosian cherries I think." Sheppard shrugged. "Apparently they're the customary gift for someone who is sick."

"I'm not sick. I fell down a ravine," Rodney quibbled.

"Yeah. You've gotta stop doing that," Sheppard told him with a wry grin.

"I'll bear that in mind next time I'm out hunting for a ZPM in the middle of the night while being assaulted by bat creatures."

"You're on thin ice with that one, Rodney," Sheppard said, shaking his head, and Rodney bit back a frosty retort because the colonel was right about that. "However, I was thinking that as you seem to be making a habit of unauthorised heroics then I'd better teach you how to fire a gun properly - that way you can learn to take care of sky-diving bat creatures without falling down the nearest ravine."

Rodney glared at him but he wasn't entirely sure why. He felt uncomfortable about spending any more time than was necessary with the laidback colonel, but at the same time he felt rather pleased that Sheppard thought he was worth the effort.

"Not that there's gonna be a next time," Sheppard said firmly. "Because from now on, if you ever, ever, go offworld without permission again, or if you do something really stupid, like running off by yourself while we're on a mission, then the punishment I gave your ass last night will seem like a slap on the wrist by comparison. Clear?"

"Perfectly," Rodney muttered, feeling his face flush warmly. He really didn't want to think about the previous evening and how it had felt to lower himself over the colonel's knees. It had been too intimate, too personal, and he wasn't comfortable with it.

"I really want to talk to you about that," Sheppard said, leaning forward.

"And I really don't," Rodney replied.

"Tough." Sheppard shrugged. "Look, I'm not going to apologise for punishing you because I think you deserved it. I never, ever leave people behind, and while I can understand why you lied to me, don't ever do anything like that again, Rodney. But…." He reached out a hand, as if he wanted to touch Rodney's arm, but then drew back, his hazel eyes conflicted. "I *am* sorry for what you went through with Bates. I wish you had felt you could have told us what was going on - it makes me really uneasy that you were punished all those times when he was making your life such a misery."

Rodney stared at a spot somewhere over the colonel's shoulder. He really would have preferred it if Sheppard had come in here and been distant, or even if he'd yelled at him for going offworld without permission, but an apology was harder to take.

"I should have been able to handle him," he muttered. "I'm not a child, Colonel. I don't need to be protected. You have no idea how much it pisses me off that you had to come riding over the hill to rescue me from the clutches of the big bad top. I've never imagined myself to be one of *those* subs. I feel like I got trapped in a really bad movie and that makes the whole thing even worse." He shuddered. "It's not even as if he was the cool-but-sexy villain. He was just a thug - a really stupid, dumbass thug."

Sheppard laughed at that and Rodney glared at him, annoyed. Sheppard shook his head. "I'm sorry - I just figured out that what's really pissing you off is not that Bates tried to force his collar on you but that he was smart about it," he grinned. "He had a plan and it damn well nearly succeeded, and you're mad as hell about that."

Rodney gazed at him through narrowed eyes. "Did you want me to tell you that you'd outstayed your welcome, or have you figured that out for yourself?" he scowled. Sheppard laughed again.

"Message received. Loud and clear," he said, unfolding those long legs of his and getting up. He leaned forward, and for just one second there was an intense look in his eyes that took Rodney by surprise. "I'll be back this evening," he said. "I'm glad you're okay, Rodney." He ran his hand gently along Rodney's arm, never taking his eyes off Rodney's face, and Rodney felt all the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, and he shivered, puzzled by his reaction. Then the moment passed, and Sheppard turned to go.

"He didn't nearly succeed," Rodney said quietly, just as Sheppard reached the door. Sheppard glanced back over his shoulder. "The answer would always have been no," Rodney said, thrusting out his chin obstinately.

A fierce look flared in Sheppard's eyes, and the colonel nodded at him. "I know that, Rodney," he said softly, and then he left.

Rodney closed his eyes and tried to sleep but found he couldn't switch off. He just lay there, remembering how awkward and yet how easy it had been to lower himself over Sheppard's knee. He felt as if he'd been falling for a very long time, and then Sheppard had come along and caught him, upturned him over his knee, and broken through barriers and walls that Rodney had constructed a very long time ago.

He dozed, only to find Sheppard chasing him through his dreams as he re-lived the events of the past 24 hours over and over again, all jumbled up in his mind. He could still see the look of surprise on Bates's face as Sheppard had clawed him away, and thrown him bodily across the room. Could still feel the cold steel of that training collar pressed against his neck, and the raw, hungry look in Bates's eyes as he'd forced him against the wall and demanded his submission. Then he was lying at the bottom of that ravine, lost in the dark, and Sheppard had appeared out of nowhere, looming over him, asking if he was hurt, rubbing dirt off the side of his face and smiling at him with that goofy, laid-back smile. Yet all the while those hazel eyes of his held a different expression entirely, hinting that the colonel wore a mask that nobody was ever meant to see behind. What did lie behind it, Rodney wondered, feverishly, as he tossed and turned on his infirmary bed. Who was the real John Sheppard? Was it the effortlessly cool, if slightly distant man, who sauntered around this base exuding a kind of easy charm that Rodney distrusted instinctively? Or was it the man who had just brushed his arm; intense and dangerous, with a fierce, dark, passionate edge that thrilled Rodney even as it scared him? Rodney didn't know the answer to that question, and, finally, he managed to fall into an exhausted, troubled sleep.

 

~*~


	7. Rodney's Stalker

It was late afternoon when Rodney woke, his head was still pounding, and there was a visitor sitting beside his bed, typing quietly into her laptop. Rodney blinked, blearily, and Elizabeth smiled at him and closed her laptop, putting it to one side.

"Are you feeling better?" she asked, her hand finding his on the blanket, and squeezing, gently.

"Yeah." He managed to sit up and she rearranged his pillows behind him. His mouth felt dry, and Elizabeth poured him a glass of water and held it out for him to drink. Then he lay back, exhausted by the effort.

"Colonel Sheppard told me everything," she said.

Rodney sighed. "Everything?" he groaned.

She grinned. "Everything," she said firmly. "You and I need to mend some fences, Rodney."

"Wish I knew how," he muttered, meaning it. "I'd like to promise that everything will be okay from now on…but…I keep surprising myself you see. Don't know what's going on really. Everything…got kind of jumbled up."

She gazed at him thoughtfully, and then nodded. "Let's take it one day at a time then."

"All right. Are you going to have Sheppard punish me for running off last night?" he asked, wearily.

"Does it work?" She raised an eyebrow.

"When Sheppard does it? Probably," he replied, honestly.

"I'll bear that in mind then. But, Rodney, nobody is going to punish you for last night," she said firmly, getting up and coming to sit on the bed beside him. "I think, because we're so far from home, and there are so many pressures out here, that maybe you and I lost touch with what's important. I'm sorry for my part in that. I'm just glad you're okay." And then she took his head gently between her hands, leaned forward, and kissed him tenderly on the forehead. Rodney blinked uncertainly. "Please don't do that again, Rodney," she told him, drawing back and gazing at him affectionately. "You're far too important for us to lose you."

"Well that's true enough," he replied. "I mean, Zelenka's good but he's not brilliant. He's not a bona fide genius like yours truly."

She gave a little gurgle of laughter. "You're probably right!" she said, and then she shook her head, her smile fading. "But that's not what I meant," she added softly, her hazel eyes deadly serious. "Get well soon, Rodney. And please remember that if anything upsets you then you can talk to me. My door is always open – especially to you."

She got up, picked up her laptop, and left. Rodney gazed after her, startled. It occurred to him then, that despite his best attempts to keep people at arm's length, somehow they'd all crept in under the radar anyway. Carson, Sheppard, Elizabeth - even Radek and some of the other members of his staff. He had responsibilities here, and people who cared about him, and he really needed to stop being an idiot and start being Dr McKay again. Not that the whole belated teen rebellion thing hadn't been fun, in its own way.

Rodney closed his eyes again, and this time, when he slept, it was a deep, dreamless, healing sleep.

The next few days crawled by interminably. Once Rodney started to feel better he made sure that everyone in the infirmary was just as miserable as he was, and Carson's lectures gradually mutated from the wearily sympathetic to the extremely pissed off. Rodney was immune to it. He was bored and desperate to be back at work, and he hated all the enforced idleness.

"I feel sorry for the top you end up with!" Carson admonished him in desperation after one particularly heated exchange.

"Hah. There isn't a top around who could handle me!" Rodney riposted.

"You're the worst patient I've ever had!"

"You're the worst doctor I've ever had!"

"Is there a problem here?" Sheppard arrived, one eyebrow raised inquisitively. Rodney scowled at him. The colonel visited him every morning before his shift began and every evening after it ended, and Rodney had no idea why. He could only assume that Sheppard felt guilty for punishing him and was trying to make it up to him. Either that or he thought Rodney was such trouble that he wanted to keep an eye on him.

"No problem, no," Carson said, glaring at Rodney maliciously. "Rodney was just telling me that there isn't a top alive who could handle him. Apparently."

"Is that so?" Sheppard leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest and regarding Rodney in a way that made Rodney's scalp tingle and his entire body flush. His eyes raked over Rodney's face, amused, like a cat playing with a cornered mouse. "You should be careful about making those kinds of statements in public," Sheppard drawled. "Some tops might take it for a challenge."

"He started it!" Rodney accused, pointing at Carson.

"Aye, I did," Carson nodded. "I was just telling him, colonel, that I pity the top he ends up with, poor bugger." The two of them exchanged a look that Rodney didn't understand at all, and then Sheppard burst out laughing.

"Oh, I'm sure there's someone out there who can tame him," he said.

"I'm ill and you're taunting me. It's not good for my recovery," Rodney sniffed. "If only Carson would let me go back to my quarters…."

"You've only got a couple more days in here, Rodney," Sheppard said, in that reasonable tone of voice, helping himself to one of Rodney's Athosian cherries.

"He won't let me work!" Rodney accused.

"Well then we're even because you won't let me work, either!" Carson exploded.

"How's his ankle? Can he walk?" Sheppard asked.

Carson shrugged. "He can hobble."

"Good. Then how about I get him out of your hair for a couple of hours - wear him out with a walk down to the south-west pier?"

"That would make me a very happy man," Carson breathed. "Thank you, Colonel. A wee bit of mild exercise would do him good I think."

"Isn't anybody going to ask *me* whether I want to go for a walk?" Rodney fumed. Sheppard and Carson glanced at each other, and then shook their heads.

"Nah," Sheppard said.

"It's a miracle anyone ever gets better with this kind of care," Rodney snapped. "First I'm locked up with the local witchdoctor for days on end, and then I'm made to go out walking in the cold…."

"It's summer," Sheppard pointed out.

"Whatever," Rodney sniffed.

Sheppard grinned, and held out his hand. "Come on, Rodney, before Carson kills you with his bare hands."

"Fine. Ignore me. The pair of you just enjoy bossing me around when I'm too ill to fight back," Rodney complained, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and treading down gingerly. His ankle was still very painful and he had a pronounced limp. Carson held up a bathrobe and helped him into it.

"Oh you're doing just fine with the fighting back thing. Here take my arm." Sheppard held out his arm. Rodney looked at it as if it was a poisonous snake.

"I can manage," he growled, holding onto the side of the bed as the room swam a little.   
Sheppard grabbed his hand, wrapped it firmly around his own arm, and then held it there.

"If you feel like you're going to pass out, or you're too tired to go any further, then tell me," he said. Rodney glared at him, but he knew he'd never manage to walk all the way down to the south-west pier without holding onto something, so he finally gave in.

It was kind of nice to be out of the infirmary too, even if he really wanted to be at work and not wandering at a snail's pace through the city hallways, clad in his pyjamas and bathrobe, hanging onto Colonel Sheppard's arm. Sheppard was being kind of nice to him, making conversation about the puddle jumpers, and how he'd recently made a trip over to the mainland to visit the Athosians in their new settlement.

They finally reached the south-west pier, and Rodney released his grip on Sheppard's arm and hung onto the balustrade. He'd spent so long locked up in his lab that he'd forgotten how good it felt to just stand, soaking up the sunshine, the wind gently rifling through his hair. Atlantean summers were pleasant too - not too hot, but nice and warm, and he sighed, and gazed out across the ocean.

"This is my favourite place in the city," Sheppard told him. "I often come here just to get away from things. To sit and think."

"It is nice," Rodney agreed, suddenly realising he'd only ever viewed the city as a piece of machinery, something that had to be made to work, something to be maintained. He'd never gone anywhere to just sit and think.

"You ever been on the mainland, Rodney?" Sheppard asked, gesturing with his head into the deep blue yonder. Rodney shook his head. "It's nice - a bit wild, but nice. After I finished dropping off supplies for the Athosians, I took the puddle jumper along the coast and found this great beach. White gold sand, pure blue water - completely unspoiled."

"You sound like a travel brochure," Rodney muttered.

Sheppard grinned. "Maybe I'll take you there one day," he said.

Rodney scowled. "I hate beaches. You get sand between your toes and salt in your hair and everything's messy."

"You must have liked going to the beach when you were a kid." Sheppard put his head on one side and gazed at Rodney intently. Rodney shifted, uncomfortable under all that hazel-eyed scrutiny.

"I don't remember ever going to the beach as a kid," he muttered. "My parents didn't believe in vacations - it would have meant them spending too much time together. They hated each other."

"Why did they stay together then?" Sheppard asked in a curious tone.

"They had some weird co-dependency thing going on, and besides I think they enjoyed the battle too much. They were both switches, and neither of them ever wanted to give an inch to the other. They were locked into this little battle and they loved it."

"Must have been kind of hard to be in the middle of all that."

"Are you kidding? It was gruesome. They used me and my sister like chess pieces in their warped game of marital dysfunction. We were moved across the board, back and forth, like pawns, and god knows they were Grand Masters at it. You?"

Sheppard looked taken by surprise by the way Rodney had thrown the topic back at him but he just shrugged, in that casual way he had.

"My dads were great. *And* they took me to the beach. A lot," he grinned. The wind lifted his dark hair, and the evening sun bathed him in orange light from behind, making him look impossibly handsome. Rodney grunted. He hated impossibly handsome people. He especially hated impossibly handsome people with an easygoing charm and perfect childhoods. It was irritating. It was nice being out though. Sheppard was easy to be with, and Rodney found himself letting his guard down a little, and chatting. He was surprised when Carson radioed Sheppard to ask where his patient was as they'd been gone for a couple of hours.

The fresh air knocked him out, and by the time Sheppard delivered him back to his bed he sank back on the pillows, closed his eyes, and fell into an immediate doze. He was vaguely aware of Sheppard and Carson having a conversation but it washed over him, like waves on the seashore, coming in and out of focus.

"How did it go?"

"Fine. No - great."

"You didn't end up wanting to throttle him then?"

"Nope. He's got this weird vulnerability thing going on. Even when he's at his most obnoxious you still can't help liking him."

"Aye. Damn him. So you haven't changed your mind?"

"Yeah, right. You know me better than that by now, Doc. If anything I feel it more strongly than ever - and I'll do whatever it takes. I mean - look at him - he's…."

Rodney didn't hear any more as he was sound asleep.

 

It was a great relief when he was finally released from the infirmary and allowed to go back to his lab and see what kind of a mess Radek had made of things while he'd been gone. Nothing had been done to his satisfaction so he set about correcting all his team's errors while at the same time pointing them out to them as loudly as possible. He managed to berate every single member of his staff by ten a.m. on his first day and felt much better thereafter.  
He was surprised when Colonel Sheppard dropped by at lunchtime and asked him if he was going to the mess hall to eat.

"I thought I'd grab a sandwich and work through," Rodney replied curtly.

"It's your first day back. You should take a proper break," Sheppard told him. Rodney sighed, loudly.

"Oh all right - I suppose Carson sent you to check up on me," he muttered. Sheppard just grinned and shrugged, and Rodney assumed that he'd been right about that so he wasn't entirely surprised when Sheppard showed up again in the evening.

"Dinner?" the colonel suggested.

"You really don't need to make sure I eat. I always remember to eat," Rodney told him, rolling his eyes. "Go and tell Carson that I'm fine, and I don't need a babysitter."

Sheppard grinned again. "You don't always remember to eat as we both know all too well. And I need you to eat right now because I don't want you fainting on me in the firing range."

Rodney frowned. "What?"

"Firing range. I'm giving you your first lesson tonight."

"And when were you going to tell me this?" Rodney snapped.

"I just did."

"Well it's impossible. I've been away from the lab for days, and it's a miracle the city is even still standing as my completely incompetent staff seem to have managed to wreck just about every single thing I asked them to do."

"It's your first day back and you are not working in here until midnight," Sheppard told him firmly. "Carson said you had to take it easy."

"Carson knows I always ignore him when he says that."

"He might. I don't," Sheppard shrugged. "Seems to me that if he says take it easy then that's what you're going to do. The firing range will be a good change of scene, and besides, you need the practice. Now, tear yourself away from your laptop and let's get moving. I'm starving."

Rodney stood there, completely flummoxed. "You're serious about this aren't you?" he said. Sheppard just smiled. "What if I say no?" Rodney narrowed his eyes.

"You don't want to do that," Sheppard replied easily, still smiling.

Rodney sighed and gave in. "Some tops just can't leave it in the bedroom," he muttered to himself as he limped over to the door. Sheppard gave a little snort, as if he'd heard that, and when Rodney got close he put a hand on his shoulder and escorted him out into the hallway.

Rodney had very little interest in guns, beyond a kind of vague horror that he might accidentally shoot off some part of his own anatomy in a moment of blind panic. He had to admit (to himself at least but not to Sheppard) that the colonel was a pretty good teacher. He explained how the gun worked (a lecture that made Rodney mentally roll his eyes because he knew how a goddamn gun worked), and then moved onto the best way to hold a weapon and how to load ammunition on the move. Then, finally, he gave Rodney a handgun to fire.

"No - don't stand like that - stand like this." Sheppard moved close behind him, and slid his fingers over Rodney's hands where they were held out in front of his body, clutching the gun. Rodney could feel Sheppard's breath on the side of his face, and the front of the colonel's body was pressed tight against his back and buttocks. Rodney found himself going very still, and his breathing seemed to slow down. He tried to concentrate on what Sheppard was saying but all coherent thought seemed to have escaped him. He felt very calm, very quiet…sort of lost in a little world of his own. It was the most peaceful he'd felt in a very long time, and he longed for the sensation to last. Then Sheppard was squeezing his hands, encouraging him with low, hypnotic tones, and Rodney found himself firing at the paper target, rapidly, one shot after another, and every shot was going home, right in the centre, tearing the target apart.

"Wow," Sheppard murmured in his ear, and Rodney broke out into a warm sweat. "Looks like you've been holding out on us, McKay."

"Did I do that? I didn't do that! My god - I did that!" Sheppard loosened his grasp on him and Rodney jumped towards the target excitedly. "There - see - genius *and* sharp shooter!" he exclaimed, hopping from one foot to the other in glee.

"Try again," Sheppard said, laughing at his obvious excitement.

Rodney took up position, and fired at the new target Sheppard put in place - and missed, dismally, several times, although one shot did puncture one of the lights overhead.

"Must have been a fluke," Rodney sighed, dejected. "Damnit! I always wanted to be good at something cool - not that rocket science and astrophysics aren't cool, but, well, you know, nobody else thinks so - but this *is* cool. If I could have done this at school then maybe I wouldn't have had to hide beneath the bleachers during recess with those idiots from the science club who got beat up all the time."

"You used to hide beneath the bleachers?" Sheppard raised an amused eyebrow.

"With our experiments!" Rodney explained, as if that rendered it less sad. "I nearly split the atom under the bleachers. There was this one time when…."

"Shall we try again?" Sheppard suggested. "And this time…." He came up behind Rodney and pressed in close again, his hands sliding down Rodney's arms and over his fingers and squeezing, "Stroke the weapon gently. Imagine you're on your knees, pleasuring some fantastically hung top, and you don't want to piss him off by going too fast, too soon, so you're just gently doing this…." Rodney felt his throat go dry as Sheppard talked, in that slow drawl of his, straight into his ear. He was a captive within the colonel's embrace, and that sensation made him want to go very still, and he felt that warm, peaceful glow descend on him again. He squeezed the trigger, as instructed, and hit the target in the centre, just as he had before.

"There you go," Sheppard said, as he finished firing. "Not a fluke."

"No," Rodney said softly. He didn't have the heart to tell the colonel that if he was going to repeat the feat in the field then Sheppard would have to be standing right behind him, whispering in his ear the entire time.

Rodney was tired by the time he returned to his quarters later that evening. Maybe Sheppard had been right about the whole taking it easy thing. The colonel insisted on walking him back to his rooms before saying goodnight and Rodney assumed the man didn't actually trust him not to go back to his lab. Of course, he might be right not to trust him, as Rodney had definitely considered it, but he was just too tired and his head was spinning. Rodney crossed the room, moving his head from side to side to relieve an ache in his neck, and he caught sight of himself in the mirror. He had a pink scar on his head from where he'd fallen the previous week. That was already fading but what struck him, suddenly, was how long it had been since he'd really looked at himself.

He got up close and examined his reflection, wincing slightly. His hair was long, far longer than was really respectable, and kind of greasy, matted at the ends from where he'd run his fingers through it after eating a jelly donut earlier in the day. It was sticking up in places, giving him a dishevelled look. He couldn't be bothered with shaving most days, and just did the minimum to keep the stubble on his chin from getting wildly out of hand. His clothes were clean enough, and he knew that he didn't smell, but he tended to just pull on whatever came to hand, without thinking about it. The result was that he was wearing an oversized tee shirt with a pair of baggy cargo pants, making him look a bit like a tramp, in clothes that were a size too big for him. Rodney pulled up the tee shirt and surveyed his stomach - it was perhaps a bit flatter than it used to be, and he hadn't been eating as regularly over the past couple of months as he usually did. No wonder his clothes were hanging off him.

"Man you look bad," he muttered to his reflection. He considered rummaging around in his belongings for some more flattering clothes - or bartering for some a size smaller on Atantis's flourishing black market - and possibly having his hair trimmed too while he was at it, but then he stopped. He remembered the look on Bates's face as he'd tried to put that collar on him and the last thing he wanted was to attract the attention of any other psychotic tops out there. Better to keep them at bay with both his sharp tongue and his slovenly appearance. There weren't any tops on the base who interested him in any case - he'd made a vow to himself that he wasn't going anywhere near a military top ever again, and none of the scientists was remotely appealing so that pretty much ruled out everyone. He couldn't see the point in smartening up just for the sake of it, either. He held out his arms, clutching a pretend gun, and re-lived the sensation of John Sheppard sliding his hands sensuously down his arms, his body pressed so close that Rodney could almost hear the beating of his heart. What kind of a top would John Sheppard be, he wondered? Then he dismissed the thought immediately.

"Impossibly handsome, remember?" he told himself. "Undoubtedly full of himself. The kind who'd make you blow them in front of a mirror just so they can watch themselves come. And he'd make you do his hair every morning. Probably already has a sub just to do that. A special hair sub - the servant of the gel. Dedicated to the sole task of whipping that artfully tousled hair into a state of perfection every morning. Expect he beats the hell out of the poor bastard if there's so much as one strand going in the wrong direction. Are you talking to yourself in the mirror? Why, yes I am. Idiot."

He moved away, stripped off his clothes, and went to take a shower, trying to banish all thoughts of John Sheppard from his mind.

Keeping John Sheppard out of his mind would be a lot easier if John Sheppard would only keep out of his sight, Rodney thought to himself a few days later. It was bizarre, but everywhere he went the colonel seemed to pop up a few seconds later. It started with breakfast - no matter what time he got to the mess hall to eat, Sheppard always seemed to show up before he got the first spoonful of food to his lips. The colonel would wander in, glance around the room, and his eyes would fall unfailingly on Rodney. Then he'd come over, sit down beside him or opposite him, and give that lazy grin of his. They'd make conversation - Sheppard would ask him about what he had planned for his day, and Rodney would explain that it was far too complicated for a mere Airforce colonel to understand. Sheppard would just smile and say 'try me' and that was like a red rag to a bull to Rodney who'd immediately find himself launching into a detailed technical explanation in the hope of proving to the colonel that there was no way he'd be able to keep up. Much to his annoyance, Sheppard was actually pretty good at keeping up, and would even ask the occasional intelligent question. Finally Rodney would realise that he was running late and tear himself away and forget about Sheppard for a few hours while he worked - until the colonel showed up around lunch time, where he would proceed to hang around the lab, getting underfoot, until such time as Rodney agreed to go and have lunch with him. There wasn't even any escaping the man in the evening - he seemed to know precisely what time Rodney would finish work, and Rodney would find him lounging around outside the lab door, or just nonchalantly walking down the hallway at the exact moment Rodney was leaving. It was kind of spooky, and Rodney was starting to get freaked by it. It wasn't that he minded the man's company as such, but he couldn't help thinking that maybe this was all part of some giant practical joke, and if it was, then he was pretty sure the joke would be on him. Sheppard was military after all. Alternatively…it was possible that Sheppard was keeping an eye on him, determined that he wouldn't cause any more mayhem after the whole running off to find a ZPM stunt he'd pulled. That irritated Rodney - he was doing his best to turn things around after all the problems he'd had when they first arrived, and he resented the fact that he wasn't trusted. The third possibility, which Rodney suspected was the most likely, was that Carson had appointed Sheppard as his personal health supervisor or something, and the man was under orders to trail around after him to make sure he was eating and not falling down ravines, or otherwise hurting himself.

After two weeks of this, Rodney finally snapped when Sheppard came to his lab late one night and leaned against the wall.

"It's nearly midnight," the colonel said.

"And your point would be?" Rodney frowned, trying to couple two extremely delicate wiring systems together, his fingers shaking ever so slightly from an overload of the caffeine he'd been consuming every half an hour throughout the course of the day.

"My point being that what you're doing looks kind of fiddly and complicated so wouldn't it be better to wait until morning when you're fresh?" Sheppard commented.

"Do I tell you how to run your missions? No," Rodney said firmly. "Do I hang around your office making suggestions about rotas and rifles and I don't know, all that military stuff that I presume you do all day? No."

"You'd be perfectly welcome to hang around my office. It's not as much fun as your office though," Sheppard grinned, glancing around the lab. "For a start, nothing gets blown up - well, for the most part anyway. And any time you have any suggestions about rifles I'd be interested to hear 'em."

Rodney rolled his eyes. "It was just an example. I have no idea what you do all day but I'm sure it's very important and involves far more blowing things up than I get to do, more's the pity. Oh fuck." The coupling escaped from his shaking fingers and slid to the floor. Rodney bent down and retrieved it.

"How much coffee have you been drinking?" Sheppard asked. Rodney bristled.

"None of your damn business."

"It's just that your fingers are shaking."

"I'm perfectly well aware of that, thank you, Colonel!"

"Okay. Just saying." Sheppard crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back against the wall. "Only it seems to me that if you worked shorter hours, and took more care of your health, then you'd probably get just as much done because you'd have a clearer head - and you won't have worked yourself into the ground in the process."

Rodney gave him the Evil Glare of Doom that he saved for only his most irritating staff members - only to find, much to his irritation, that it didn't seem to work on Sheppard who just grinned at him. Rodney muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath and turned back to the coupling. He was so distracted by Sheppard's comment though, that his fingers slipped and he sliced one of them on the sharp metal casing. He dropped the wires with a yelp and clutched his hand to his chest as large droplets of red blood fell on the floor.

"Easy. Here, let me see," Sheppard said, suddenly by his side, his hand on Rodney's shoulder.

"No. You have done enough, Colonel. This wouldn't have happened if you weren't so annoying. Now just get out of my way." Rodney made for the door, still clutching his bleeding hand to his chest. Sheppard fell into step beside him. "I mean it!" Rodney growled. "I'm going to the infirmary and I don't need your help getting there. Leave me alone!" Sheppard thought about it for a moment, and then nodded, and allowed Rodney to go on his way.

Rodney strode down to the infirmary, to find Dr Biro the only occupant. He glared at her. "Where's Carson?"

"In bed I'd imagine," she replied. "It's gone midnight, Dr McKay. Are you hurt? I'm the doctor on night duty. Can I help?"

"No, you can't," Rodney said, turning his back on her and marching off in the direction of Carson's quarters. He kicked the door several times before his friend finally answered it, dark hair tousled, blue eyes sleepy and bemused.

"Rodney? Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not okay!" Rodney snapped, pushing past Carson and striding into his room. "I'm bleeding, and it's all your fault. Oh." He pulled up short as he saw someone slide out of Carson's bed and reach for his clothes.

"I'll leave you to it, Doc," the man said, pulling on his pants and then pressing a kiss to Carson's cheek. "Thanks for tonight - and, you know, good luck with McKay. You'll probably need it."

Rodney watched him go, open-mouthed, and then rounded on his friend. "Ford? You're sleeping with Ford?" he said, in disbelief.

"Why not? He's a good looking lad," Carson said defensively.

"He's a kid."

"He's legal! And he's cute!"

"He's got a massive crush on Teyla!"

"I know!" Carson snapped at him, two angry red dots appearing on both his cheeks. "I'm bloody well aware of that! He made no bones about it - came here this evening and said he wanted some no strings fun, couldn't promise anything more as he was holding out for Teyla, but in the meantime he's a sub, I'm a top, and why not play?"

"You're such a slut," Rodney said, sitting down on the side of the bed.

"I haven't taken a sub in months!" Carson protested. "I'm lonely!"

"He's *military*," Rodney growled.

"So?" Carson shook his head. "Just because you had a wee bit of bother with some of the military lads doesn't mean they're all bad. I like Aiden - he's a very eager-to-please young man and we enjoyed a nice scene this evening."

"I don't want to hear about it." Rodney glanced at the lube on the nightstand, the soft wrist   
restraints hanging from the bed, and a rather sumptuous looking suede flogger abandoned on the floor.

"I wasn't going to damn well tell you about it!" Carson said. "Rodney what are you doing here? Damn it - are you bleeding on my sheets?"

"Oh. Yes. Sorry about that," Rodney muttered, looking down at his wounded hand, from which splashes of blood were dripping.

"Show me." Carson sat down beside him and pulled his hand over, none too gently.

"Ow!" Rodney complained.

"There is a night doctor on duty you know," Carson told him. "If you want more caring treatment you know where you can go."

"I wanted to see you, seeing as how this is all your fault," Rodney retorted, nodding at his bleeding hand.

"My fault? How the hell is this anything to do with me?" Carson asked, his fingers carefully probing Rodney's wound with their usual gentle skill, despite his words.

"It's Sheppard! You've got to call him off," Rodney said. Carson frowned.

"Call him off? What do you mean, lad?"

"I mean that you have to tell him to stop following me around. I'm a big boy and I can take care of myself. I'm not about to fall down any more ravines!"

"You think…you think that I've somehow set the colonel on you to make sure you don't do yourself any harm?" Carson asked, blankly.

"Well haven't you?" Rodney said, jutting out his jaw, suddenly feeling a little less sure of himself. Carson laughed, softly, shaking his head.

"No, Rodney. I haven't."

"Then why does he keep *appearing* all the time?" Rodney asked, puzzled. "Everywhere I go, he's there. Oh my god! You don't think he's stalking me do you?"

"Why would he do that?" Carson looked like he was having trouble keeping himself from bursting into a fit of hysterical giggles.

"I have no idea. But why does he keep meeting me at meal times, hmm? And when I'm walking down the hallways he just pops up and he…he puts his hand on my shoulder," Rodney said, in a low, meaningful tone, because that seemed particularly sinister now he thought about it.

"Maybe he's just being nice?" Carson suggested.

"Why would he be nice?" Rodney asked, blankly. Carson sighed.

"I have no idea, Rodney, but I do know a way you can find out."

"Really? How?" Rodney leaned forward conspiratorially. Carson leaned in too.

"You could try asking him," he said, in a whisper.

Rodney gazed at him for a second, wondering what on earth he meant, and then realised he was being teased.

"Oh thank you very much, Doctor. Ha, ha," he said mirthlessly. "Are you done with my hand yet?"

"No - but it's not very serious. You need to go to the infirmary and get Dr Biro to wash it and bandage it, and then you'll be right as rain," Carson told him. Rodney glared at him.

"Hah. It's bad enough letting you loose on me with your witchdoctor needles but now you expect me to let some other practitioner of the voodoo arts get their hands on me."

"You'll be fine." Carson got to his feet, pulled Rodney off the bed, and then pushed him towards the door.

"If I die it'll be your fault," Rodney told him.

"I'll just have to live with it on my conscience," Carson replied sadly.

Rodney hesitated in the doorway. "Seriously - you didn't tell Sheppard to keep an eye on me?"

"Seriously. I didn't." Carson shook his head.

"Hmmm." Rodney sighed, and walked out of the door.

"You're welcome!" Carson yelled after him. Rodney thought he heard some Gaelic swearing coming from the doctor's room as he walked away but he couldn't be entirely sure.

 

Rodney pondered the whole situation with Sheppard for the next few days. The colonel didn't seem to have taken his brush-off amiss, and he still showed up for breakfast the next morning and insisted on sitting with Rodney, as usual. He asked after Rodney's bandaged hand, which Rodney held pointedly on the table so that nobody could miss it. Rodney found himself sneaking glances at the colonel when the other man wasn't looking, wondering what the hell was going on. It would help if Sheppard wasn't so damn attractive - Rodney found his gaze lingering on the colonel's permanently moist lower lip, on the lean swagger of his hips, that neat, firm ass, and the surprising elegance of his hands. He didn't find his answers in any of those things though - Sheppard had that lazy, cool mask completely in place, and Rodney longed to get behind it for just a moment, to glimpse that other man again, the dark, passionate, edgy man who'd thrown Bates across the room, or the commanding, demanding man who'd broken down every one of Rodney's barriers during that punishment session.

He got his wish a few days later on TMP-0986. They'd been on the trail of another ZPM, and Rodney had run on ahead excitedly as his readings had indicated they were close, when a bunch of hostile natives appeared from nowhere. The first Rodney knew about the danger was when an arrow missed his nose by millimetres, and ended up embedded in the tree beside him. He'd turned, horrified, just in time to see Sheppard bearing down on him. The colonel grabbed his arm and threw him, almost bodily, out of harm's way, and then rolled down the side of a mossy bank after him, firing his gun as he went. He came to a halt on top of Rodney, and Rodney tried to disentangle himself impatiently.

"What the hell…?" Rodney began. Sheppard put a hand over his mouth and Rodney's eyes widened.

"Keep very quiet and very still," the colonel hissed, gazing meaningfully over Rodney's shoulder. Rodney gazed up at him, horrified, and was then surprised to find his body going completely still under the colonel's warm weight. This wasn't the first time this had happened and Rodney wondered what it was about the colonel that made him feel calm when he would normally be all panicking like crazy. Rodney heard people moving around just yards away, and he held his breath, hoping they'd pass by without seeing them. Sheppard looked down on him, and gave just the faintest hint of a quirky grin. Rodney managed a ghost of a smile in return. Sheppard was heavy on top of him, and even though he lacked Rodney's breadth, he made up for that in height, and a steely strength that took Rodney by surprise. Rodney felt himself relaxing even more under the colonel's hard body, and he closed his eyes and tried to concentrate on breathing. Sheppard smelled of sweat from their recent exertion, but there was something else about his scent, something warm and musky, that made Rodney want to sink back further, and open his legs and…. Rodney's eyes flashed open, horrified at where his mental image had gone. Sheppard's knee was between his thighs, and their groins were pressed against each other, and Rodney could feel himself getting hard. If only he could banish that persistent mental image of Sheppard holding him down, arms above his head, the full weight of his body pressed on top of Rodney while he slowly….

There was a shout above them, and Rodney looked up to see one of their attackers pointing at them. He was almost relieved that they'd been discovered before his growing erection embarrassed him further, and the prospect of imminent disembowelment by a sharp arrow, although not entirely dissimilar to his fantasies, did at least focus his mind on survival rather than sex. Sheppard got to his feet, grabbed hold of Rodney, and pushed him away, yelling at him to run while he covered him. Rodney took off, his heart pounding in his chest as he stumbled through the trees, crashing so loudly that all he could hear was the sound of his own panicked flight. He was dimly aware of gunfire behind him, and he half-turned, anxious to make sure that Sheppard was okay, and, not looking where he was going, he crashed straight into a tree and bounced off it, landing awkwardly on the mossy forest floor. It was only then that he realised it hadn't been a tree he'd careened into, but the solid chest of a man standing a good six feet six inches, and built like the side of a mountain. He was dressed in strips of leather, and had a whole rack of knives hanging from his extremely impressive black belt. He looked like his entire purpose in life was to fight in hand-to-hand combat - and it was clearly a sport he enjoyed, if the big grin on his face was anything to go by. Rodney tried to scramble away, terrified, but the man just laughed at him, revealing a set of gold teeth, and then he reached out one big arm, and pulled Rodney bodily to his feet by the collar on his shirt. He looked Rodney up and down for a moment, and then gave a distinct leer. He looked as if he was about to run his fingers over Rodney's face, but there was a noise behind them and instead he swung Rodney round, and pulled him close against him, so that Rodney's back was pressed against his attacker's flat, hard belly. Rodney felt the sharp blade of a knife pressing against his throat and at that exact moment Sheppard ran into sight…and came to a sudden halt, breathing heavily, as he saw the situation Rodney was in.

"I…uh…don't think he's friendly," Rodney squeaked.

"You don't say." Sheppard looked kind of pissed off, which wasn't exactly the reaction Rodney had been expecting. Okay, so he'd just gotten himself into a hostage situation but he was sure that wasn't entirely his fault. Sheppard didn't look like he cared about that though, and there was an extremely angry glow in his hazel eyes.

"I'm sorry!" Rodney called to the furious colonel. "He just appeared out of nowhere. I crashed straight into him." Sheppard barely looked at him, his eyes were fixed instead on the man holding him hostage.

"Let him go and I won't hurt you too much," he said, waving his gun menacingly in the air.

"Uh…hello! He's the one with the bargaining chip right now!" Rodney protested. The big man just wrapped his beefy arm more tightly around Rodney's body, and pressed the blade of his knife closely against Rodney's neck. It was uncomfortable, and Rodney could feel the knife pressing against his skin. He swallowed hard, knowing that one quick slice of that sharp knife could cut his jugular, and end his life within seconds.

"What do you want?" Sheppard asked. The big man growled something in a language Rodney didn't understand. "Is that the only language you speak?" Sheppard demanded. Another torrent of something that Rodney didn't understand, and, right at the end, his captor spat on the ground as if to emphasise his point.

"Charming," Rodney muttered. "Homicidal *and* lacking in manners."

"He doesn't speak English, Rodney," Sheppard told him. "So he won't understand what I'm telling you to do. When I say 'duck', I want you to do just that - try and elbow him in the belly while you're at it."

"Oh you have got to be kidding me!" Rodney yelled. "He's got a knife on my jugular, Colonel. There is no way you're that good a shot that you're going to get him and not me."

"Rodney - just do as I say and you'll be fine," Sheppard ground out, looking extremely pissed off now.

"No way. No. No, no, no," Rodney said emphatically. "Why don't we try reasoning with these people? I'm sure they're very nice. It's just a little misunderstanding." He looked up at his captor hopefully, and the man grinned down at him, the light glinting menacingly off his gold teeth.

"How can we reason with them if they don't understand a word we're saying?" Sheppard yelled at him. "We don't even know why they're pissed off with us! For all we know, he thinks you're lunch. Or worse - you're his new fuck toy."

Rodney swallowed hard. The big man did seem to be holding him really tight, and there was something un-nerving about that knowing way he kept grinning at him.

"Just how good a shot are you?" he squeaked.

"Pretty damn good. Now take a deep breath. Ready?"

"No!"

At that moment a shot rang out nearby and his captor swung around in the direction of the sound. Sheppard took advantage of the distraction to fire, and next thing Rodney knew he was lying on the ground with a dead weight on top of him. He wriggled out, and came face to face with his captor, his face now grinning in a ghoulish kind of death mask, a big hole in the middle of his forehead.

"Shit. That *is* pretty damn good," Rodney murmured, as Sheppard ran up.

"I told you. Now come on." Sheppard still looked furious as he grabbed Rodney's arm and dragged him back towards the gate. They came across Teyla and Ford a few seconds later, both of them running like crazy too.

"Was that you firing?" Sheppard asked Teyla. The Athosian woman nodded grimly as she ran. From far behind they heard the sounds of pursuit. Rodney glanced over his shoulder to see a rag-tag band of hostile natives pursuing them. Some of them were on horseback, and Rodney had no idea how they were going to outpace them. He stumbled and Sheppard's grip on his arm tightened, keeping him upright. A horse outflanked them, and Rodney got a brief glimpse of a tall, savage-looking woman with a scarred cheek. She leaned forward, surveying the Atlanteans intently, as if searching for someone. Then another horse loomed into sight. It was being ridden by a warrior but carried, as a passenger, a small, ugly man, clad in a thick black cloak. He was a shrivelled skeleton of a man and he was clutching some kind of orb in his hand. He pointed at Rodney and Ford, and yelled something in a language Rodney didn't understand. The scarred woman nodded, and then rode her horse towards Ford. She was knocked from her steed by one of Teyla's batons before she even got close to the lieutenant. Rodney didn't have time to find out what happened to her because next thing he knew a big, grey stallion was bearing down on them, and a thin, hawk-nosed man was lunging straight at him, trying to grab him. The man went down before he even got close, as John fired his P-90 into him, sending the man flying, blood spurting everywhere. John grabbed Rodney's arm again the minute he finished firing, and their pursuers drew back, nervous of the superior firepower the Atlanteans were packing.

They saw the gate in the distance and picked up their pace. Rodney had never been so grateful to throw himself through the wormhole in his life. He arrived back in Atlantis a few seconds later, breathing heavily. Only when they were safe did Sheppard let go of his arm. Rodney threw himself down on the floor in exhausted relief as he saw that Ford and Teyla had made it back safely as well.

"What the hell was that all about?" Sheppard demanded, turning towards Teyla. Rodney winced. It looked like the colonel's bad mood was still firmly in place. "Why did they attack us? We didn't do anything!"

"I believe they wanted our submissives," Teyla said.

"What?" Rodney screwed up his face in disbelief.

"One of the side effects of the wraith cullings is that the natural order of some worlds is disturbed," Teyla explained. "Usually it is the case that the number of submissives and dominants on a world is more or less even, but sometimes, after a culling, that is not the case. Then it is not unusual, on primitive worlds, for dominants to launch hunting parties, looking for any stray submissives who survived the culling and are without dominants."

"Oh please. How the hell could they know just by looking at us what our sexual preferences are?" Rodney snorted.

"They had a seer with them," Teyla told him earnestly.

"A what?" Rodney rolled his eyes. He hated this kind of mumbo jumbo.

"Some societies appoint a seer to gaze into a child's soul when he or she reaches puberty and determine what path they should take. It is usually a very peaceful and helpful ritual," she said, her eyes looking a little bit dreamy. "I went through such a ritual myself."

"You mean your people don't get to choose their own orientation?" Sheppard shook his head. "That doesn't sound like something I'd be comfortable with."

"One is not constrained by the seer's guidance," Teyla told him with a little smile. "But the seer is rarely wrong, and for those who are confused it can help them make their decision. On that planet though, I fear those with the seer gift are misusing it to identify people's preferences against their will - so that the dominants know who to target when they are out hunting."

Rodney remembered the wizened man in the black cloak, clutching his orb and directing the warriors on horseback, and he shuddered.

"They did seem to know exactly what they were looking for," Ford said. "A couple of them lunged at me and tried to drag me away but they weren't interested in Teyla or the colonel."

"But I didn't go anywhere near a ritual!" Rodney protested.

Teyla made an apologetic motion with her hand. "They were watching us from the minute we arrived, I fear. And some seers practice a very black form of their art. Some seers do not even need to see you - they are able to tell your orientation from a possession, or a lock of hair. In our case I believe all they did was observe - and that was enough to determine which of us they wished to target. If you recall, they very purposefully did not injure either Dr McKay or Lieutenant Ford. Their sole aim was to split them away from the dominants in the group, leaving them exposed and available for retrieval. Their arrows were not meant to kill, but to frighten us into splitting up, making our submissives easier targets."

Rodney remembered the way the man with the gold teeth had leered down on him, and he shuddered.

"So, that guy back there…he wanted to drag Rodney off and fuck him?" Sheppard growled. Rodney looked up at him, startled by the colonel's tone.

"He wished to make him his submissive, yes." Teyla said. "If they had succeeded they would have certainly killed you and I, Colonel, and taken Lieutenant Ford and Dr McKay. They must be very desperate people." She shook her head sadly.

"My god, I've never heard anything more sick in my life!" Sheppard snarled. "And you…." His gaze fell on Rodney, and he suddenly reached down, grabbed Rodney's arm in a vice-like grip, and hauled him off the floor. "You and I are going to practice how we get out of situations like that, and you are going to learn to follow orders when we're out in the field!"

"The guy had me at knifepoint! You were going to shoot him over the top of my head - forgive me for not being happy about that!" Rodney protested.

"You have to learn to trust me!" Sheppard hissed. The colonel's fingers were still digging into his arm, and he was looking at Rodney with a dark, intent gleam in his eyes. Rodney shivered - this was the same man who had thrown Bates across the room - he'd wanted to see him again, but now that he was face to face with him he wasn't so sure. He found himself going very still again as he gazed into Sheppard's wild eyes.

"Colonel," he whispered softly. And then, "John? You're hurting me."

The atmosphere was electric as Sheppard just stood there, studying his face intently, breathing hard, looking like he was about to explode and…do what? Rodney had no idea.

"John," he said again, trying to reach the colonel. The other man seemed lost in a world of his own, and, wherever it was, it clearly wasn't pretty. Slowly, very slowly, normality returned to his eyes, and then he suddenly released Rodney, and, without another word, he turned and stalked out of the room.

Rodney gazed after him, with horrified eyes, and Teyla came up behind him.

"Are you all right, Dr McKay?" she asked, resting her hand gently on Rodney's arm where Sheppard had been holding him.

"Me? I'm fine. Him on the other hand…" Rodney shook his head. "What the hell is wrong with him?"

"I will see to Colonel Sheppard," Teyla said. "I think I recognise his distress. I expect he has gone to the practice room and will require a sparring partner. Perhaps you will debrief Lady Elizabeth?"

"Yes. Yes of course." Rodney watched her go, still shaking his head in bewilderment over Sheppard's bizarre behaviour.

 

~*~


	8. The Beach

Rodney took care of the debriefing, and then went back to his quarters to take a shower. He felt sweaty and dirty, and a little bit shaky too. The idea of subbing to the Neanderthal who had taken him hostage didn't appeal in the least - even Bates would have been a preferable option. The warm water washed away the sweat and dirt, and Rodney closed his eyes and leaned under the spray. His mind travelled over the events of the day and he remembered lying under Sheppard's lean, hard body, and the way the colonel had grinned down at him. His cock hardened at the memory, and Rodney took it in his hand and sighed, delighted to have an erection. He had always been very highly sexed but ever since they'd arrived in Atlantis his libido seemed to have gone into hibernation, and it had been a long time since he'd enjoyed masturbating. Back when Bates had been tormenting him, his cock had remained resolutely flaccid whenever he'd tried to touch it, and eventually he'd given up. Now it seemed to be returning to life, and it felt damn good. Rodney leaned against the shower wall and thought about Sheppard again, wondering what it would be like to feel the colonel's white teeth nipping his skin, or those hard, elegant fingers working his ass open. He imagined the colonel pinning him against a wall, those moist lips of his claiming his own, demanding that he surrender to him, making him his, and he gasped out loud as he came. He cleaned himself under the shower, but although he was glad to finally get his libido back, he was troubled by his fantasy. Sheppard was, after all, the ultimate in unobtainable. Rodney had a very high opinion of himself in many areas, but he didn't fool himself that Sheppard would be interested in him as a potential sub. He'd already proved himself to be difficult over the past few months, and he just wasn't the kind of sub that a top like Sheppard would be interested in. Rodney knew exactly the kinds of subs that the colonel would be attracted to. He could see them in his mind's eye - gorgeous, lithe, compliant, and, well, *nice*. Sheppard would want one of those socially confident, friendly people - the kind who knew the right things to say at dinner parties and would support the colonel in his career. That was never going to be Rodney, and he knew it. Not that it mattered in any case, he told himself, because he'd made a resolution that he was never taking a military top again, and he was determined to stick to it.

It was nearly ten p.m. by the time Rodney got dressed and wandered along to the mess hall for something to eat. The mess hall was predictably deserted at that late hour, and there wasn't anything particularly appealing left to eat, either. Rodney didn't much care - he just wanted to fill his stomach and go to bed. He grabbed some coffee, sandwiches and cake, and then went and sat down by himself. He wasn't intending to hang around - he was usually able to demolish even the most sizeable meal in under five minutes flat, and he was half way through his second sandwich when he heard a noise at the door, and turned. He froze as he saw Sheppard standing there. Sheppard froze too, and then, with a sigh, he crossed the room to where Rodney was eating.

"I'm nearly done," Rodney said, stuffing the rest of the sandwich hurriedly into his mouth. "If you, uh, wanted the place to yourself."

"I don't. I came here looking for you," Sheppard said. "Can I sit down?"

"Free country," Rodney muttered. "Well, city. Whatever." He shrugged, feeling stupid. Sheppard looked as if he'd just taken a shower as well, the ends of his hair still wet.

"I wanted to apologise," the colonel said, taking Rodney by surprise.

"Oh. Right. Okay." Rodney gazed at him uncertainly. "You were behaving really weirdly. Plus, I have a bruise on my arm from where you dragged me off the floor."

"I'm sorry." Sheppard looked it. In fact he looked terrible - and sort of grimly determined too.

"Good. Not that I didn't appreciate the heroic rescue and all that stuff but there is no way you should have spoken to me like that in front of everyone."

"I agree." Sheppard nodded.

"Good. Then we'll say no more about it - or that ludicrous suggestion that we do some kind of anti-hostage training because really, how often am I going to get taken prisoner by sex-starved dominants?" Rodney rolled his eyes.

"We're still going to do the training," Sheppard told him firmly.

"Oh you cannot be serious!" Rodney exploded. "There is no way we need to spend hours in the practise room, doing some boring drill, just on the offchance that one day…."

"It might save your life?" Sheppard raised an eyebrow. "That's exactly what we're going to do, Rodney."

Rodney glared at him. "I don't have time. I'm far too busy. The shooting lessons are bad enough but this!"

"I thought you liked the shooting lessons," Sheppard said, leaning back.

"Well, at least they're kind of cool, but that's it. No more. I'm a scientist, not a soldier!"

"I know, and you're a brilliant scientist, and extremely important to this expedition. I just want to keep you safe," Sheppard told him.

"Is that why you keep following me?" Rodney demanded. Sheppard frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"You keep following me. Everywhere I go you're there! Breakfast, lunch, dinner, my lab, the infirmary - here, now!" Rodney got up, feeling aggrieved. "You can't keep an eye on me everywhere, Colonel, and it really irritates me that you were demanding I trust you a couple of hours ago but you clearly don't trust me!"

"You think…" Sheppard paused, looking completely stunned. "You think I'm following you around?"

"You are!" Rodney snapped.

"And you think that's because I don't trust you?" Sheppard asked, in a bitter tone of voice.

"Yes. Yes I do." Rodney stuck out his jaw obstinately. "Now, I know my track record since arriving on Atlantis hasn't exactly been brilliant, but I've had certain…pressures, and if you'll look at my record before this expedition, you'll see that I've always been a very reliable and exemplary member of the team, to say nothing of an extremely brilliant scientist, which, by the way, I'm glad you've noticed. So, perhaps you'd care to stop stalking me!"

"I'm not stalking you, Rodney," Sheppard said, shaking his head wryly. He hesitated, took a deep breath, and then continued, his hazel eyes watching Rodney intently. "I'm interested in you."

"What?" Rodney glared at him. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"My god, do I have to spell it out?" Sheppard ran a hand through his hair, leaving it looking even more artfully tousled than usual. "I'm interested in you, Rodney! You're a sub, I'm a top, neither of us is seeing anyone. Why does this surprise you?"

Rodney gazed at him for a moment, completely and utterly taken by surprise, and then he thought he'd figured it out. "Oh. Okay. I see. Very clever, Colonel. I upset your men, so you think you'll have a little fun with me. See how far you can take the joke. Maybe I'm supposed to wake up naked, handcuffed to one of the puddlejumpers or something, hmm? Well it's not going to work - the answer's no." He felt the heat rise to his cheeks, and a familiar, sinking sense of betrayal in his gut. Damnit but he'd *liked* Sheppard, and he thought the man liked him. All that 'you're on the team' stuff…but that was the military for you - you just couldn't trust any of them. Rodney turned, abruptly, not wanting the colonel to see that he'd got to him, and he hurried quickly towards the door.

He was almost there when he heard Sheppard behind him, and then he was yanked around, and pushed bodily against the wall, and Sheppard was standing there, pressed against him. Rodney's treacherous body reacted the way it always did when Sheppard got hold of him and went completely still. Sheppard was breathing heavily, gazing at him from under those heavy-lidded hazel eyes.

"It's not a joke, damnit," he hissed. "Why the hell would you think that?"

"Because you could have anyone you like," Rodney replied bitterly. John gave a wry laugh at that.

"Yeah. Right. Anyone I like…you'd think, wouldn't you?"

"Oh come on. Look at you. Don't tell me you haven't worked your way around half the subs on this base already!" Rodney snapped.

"I haven't taken a sub in over a year," Sheppard told him.

Rodney's eyes narrowed. "I don't believe you."

"Oh for god's sake - why would I lie to you? I haven't taken a sub in a year because nobody has interested me. You're right - I have had a lot of subs - I admit that, but not for the past year because I wanted to wait for someone special."

"And that's me? Oh please," Rodney snorted.

"Yes it is," Sheppard told him intently. "It is you, Rodney. I want you. I need you. I've got to have you, Rodney. It's driving me insane."

Rodney gazed at him, surprised by the raw need in Sheppard's voice. If this was an act it was a damn good one.

"You still don't believe me?" Sheppard asked.

"I don't know," Rodney murmured.

"Well then maybe this will convince you." Sheppard took hold of Rodney's face, and pressed his lips lightly, gently, against Rodney's mouth. He didn't dive in for a big kiss - it was a gossamer light touch, but it made every nerve-ending in Rodney's body fizz and zing into life. He sighed into the kiss, leaning back against the wall. This felt so good, so right - he almost dropped his guard. Then Sheppard drew back and gazed at him, his eyes dark. "Believe me now?" he asked, brushing gentle fingers down the side of Rodney's cheek. Rodney gazed back at him blindly, unsure what to believe.

"I…it doesn't matter whether I do or not," Rodney told him finally, struggling to compose himself. "Because…I'm not interested." It was a lie, he knew that even as he said it, but he just wanted an escape route out of this confusing situation.

A strange mix of emotions played across Sheppard's face - shock, despair and a weary kind of resignation. Rodney watched, fascinated by this rare glimpse of the man behind the mask.

"Would you be kind enough to tell me why?" Sheppard asked at last.

"I've had enough grief at the hands of you military boys. I made a vow not to sub to one again - I always seem to come out of it hurt, or humiliated, or both, and it's not worth it."

"That's it?" Sheppard looked incredulous. "Rodney, don't be an idiot. Don't throw away something that could be potentially so good just because of some stupid vow."

"It's not stupid." Rodney thrust out his jaw angrily. "I'm flattered by your interest, Colonel, but the answer is still no. Now, if you'll excuse me." He pushed past Sheppard and walked out into the hallway, only to find, a few seconds later, that his arm had been seized again. He turned, angrily.

"Aren't you listening to me?" he hissed. "What happened to 'when a sub says no he means no'? Hmm?"

Sheppard dropped his arm as if stung. "I wouldn't hassle you," he said. "I'd never do that. I just wanted to tell you…tomorrow's Saturday."

Rodney looked at him as if he'd gone crazy. "What the hell has that got to do with anything?"

"I thought…that is, I think I did this all wrong tonight. Tomorrow, if you want, maybe we could go to that beach I told you about, on the mainland? You could get to know me a bit better before blowing me off. I'd rather you turned me down because you don't like me than because of my profession." He made a self-deprecating face. Rodney stared at him blankly. "What do you say? Give me a chance? It's just one day - on the beach - that's all I'm asking."

"You mean…kind of like a date?" Rodney wrinkled up his forehead. Sheppard shrugged.

"Why not? Look, Rodney, I've laid all my cards on the table - I don't have any more left to play. I'm sorry you thought I was stalking you but I just wanted to spend some time with you. I've felt this strong attraction to you from the first second I met you. You don't have to give me an answer now, but I'll be waiting for you in the mess hall tomorrow morning at ten. If you don't show then I promise I'll respect your wishes, and I won't pursue you again. Okay?"

Rodney just stared at him. Sheppard nodded, too fast. "Okay then. I'll…well, I'll go now." And with that he turned and disappeared quickly up the hallway.

Rodney was barely aware of returning to his quarters - his feet took him there of their own accord and when he got there he sank down on the bed, completely astonished. Sheppard was interested in him? *Sheppard*? Not that he wasn't flattered but…Sheppard? Sheppard of all people? It wasn't exactly as if he was going out of his way to attract attention from tops these days, either. Rodney got up and surveyed himself in the mirror, with a grimace. There was no way Sheppard could be interested in him - he looked crumpled and shabby, unshaven and unkempt…why would any top be interested in him looking like this? Rodney felt a little pang of shame - he'd always been fastidious about his personal appearance - he liked to be neat and tidy, and look professional and together.

"Damnit, McKay - what the hell happened to you?" he wondered out loud. He gazed at himself for a long time, not liking what he saw and wondering why Sheppard *had* somehow liked what he saw. What was Sheppard seeing exactly?

Rodney shook his head, and turned away from the mirror. He wasn't going to do this. He wasn't going to get excited about some top and then have his life stamped on as it had been so often before. He thought about that intent look in Sheppard's eyes, and the way his lips had felt pressed lightly against his own. He'd wanted more. His entire body had ached with wanting. He'd wanted to pull Sheppard close, and kiss him properly. He wanted to be claimed, and loved, and topped by that handsome, intriguing man but…it wasn't worth it. It wouldn't work, and it would be even worse when it came to an end, as it inevitably would. They'd be stuck out here in the Pegasus Galaxy, in this small city, unable to escape each other. No, it was better not to get involved. Sheppard was military after all, and Rodney hadn't had any good experiences with military tops. Better to let this drop, pretend it never happened.

Rodney glanced back at the mirror, panic-stricken, as a thought suddenly occurred to him. Supposing this was the one good thing that was ever going to happen to him in his entire life, and he turned it down? Damnit, if he could only know how it was going to turn out before committing himself to the possible heartache of it all. How the hell was he supposed to decide what to do? Everything had been so difficult lately, and he hadn't made the best choices, he knew that. What was the best choice now? Rodney gazed at himself glumly. Take a chance and hope for the best, or play it safe? Rodney buried his face in his hands and groaned. He honestly had no idea what to do.

~*~

John arrived in the mess hall at nine the following morning. He was ridiculously early but he hadn't got much sleep the previous night and had finally given up trying at six a.m. and gone for a run instead. After that he'd packed the puddle jumper with lunch, and other assorted oddments for a day trip that he didn't actually believe was going to happen, before finally getting showered and changed, and heading to the mess hall. He hated feeling like this, afraid of rejection, and in thrall to something so big it was eating away at him from the inside out. He was finding it hard to concentrate on anything other than his overwhelming attraction to Rodney, but at the same time he'd never felt more exhilarated in his life. The day seemed full of possibilities - not the momentary gratification of another conquest, but the chance of something bigger, and much more satisfying. He'd never made the first move before, never asked anyone out on a date, never put himself in the position where it could go wrong, and he could fail. Now he thought he understood what all the movies and books were banging on about. His stomach was so jittery he couldn't face eating the breakfast he'd brought over to the table, and he kept looking up at the door as the minutes ticked by, agonisingly slowly. He wasn't sure what he was expecting to happen - Rodney had been pretty adamant in his refusal the previous day after all, and yet…John had seen the look in the scientist's eyes after he'd kissed him, and that gave him a kind of hope. He was expecting the worst, but there was an enjoyable kind of agony to be had from hoping for the best. He'd dressed with care that morning, deciding to forego his leather pants (too hot) in favour of jeans and a loose black shirt, two long, elegant, black leather wristbands, and a black and silver earring that hung like a twisted thunderbolt from his right ear. He hoped he struck a suitable middle ground between toppy and casual.

He hadn't entirely decided what to do if Rodney didn't show, although he suspected that taking the puddle jumper out to some remote spot and then going for an extremely long run might feature. He knew he'd want to crawl away and lick his wounds somewhere in private.

John glanced at his watch impatiently. 9.58. He was starting to wonder why anyone would fall in love - it was total agony. His stomach was constantly churning, and every second felt like an hour. He was trying to keep his usual casual mask in place, but already Lorne had joined him at the table and then left soon after when he realised how completely distracted John was. John hadn't explained - it wasn't anybody's business but his own - and he was far too wound up to be able to manage his usual mask of laidback cool.

9.59. John got up and paced around his table. There were only a handful of people in the mess hall, and although he got a couple of strange looks he really couldn't have cared less.

10.00. John looked hopefully towards the door and stayed looking at it for one whole minute, his entire body frozen as he waited, but nobody walked through it. At 10.01 John sat down again and curled his hands around the mug of cold coffee in front of him, gazing into its brown depths despondently.

At 10.02 there was a clatter of noise at the door and John jerked his head up, eagerly, but it was just a party of botanists, in relaxed weekend clothing, chattering excitedly about something. John watched them for a few minutes, hoping he didn't look as self-conscious as he felt, sitting here, waiting for something that was looking less and less likely to happen.

By 10.08 it was clear that Rodney wasn't coming. John sank his hands into his hair and gazed back into his coffee mug again, trying to collect himself. He'd tried not to think about this moment, but, now that it had happened, he felt a little black hole of devastation open up in the pit of his stomach. He thought he'd need to speak to Carson at some point, but first…first he needed to run very fast and very far, and then find himself a bottle of some very potent alcohol to drown out these emotions. Perhaps after a week or two of that kind of behaviour he'd feel better - although somehow he doubted it.

He was in the middle of that thought when the botanists fell strangely silent, and a small but distinct gasp was heard from one of them. Frowning, John glanced up…and his jaw dropped. Rodney was walking towards him - only it wasn't a Rodney he'd ever seen before. Gone was the slightly dishevelled, shabby, mad scientist, and in his place was an extremely attractive and very well presented sub. Rodney's hair was no longer a matted mess, and it looked as if he'd had a good couple of inches lopped off the ends. It was still long enough to be endearingly curly though, and it was gleaming slightly from judicious application of gel. Rodney's chin was clean shaven, giving him a sharper, cleaner appearance, and there was a small but entirely tasteful silver and blue earring dangling from his right ear. His clothes were even more of a revelation, and John couldn't stop his gaze travelling up and down over Rodney's body in a way that was frankly admiring. Rodney was wearing a pair of snug fitting, stone-coloured cargo pants that clung to his ass as he walked, and a tight black sleeveless tee shirt revealing a set of broad shoulders and surprisingly toned biceps. The shirt also had a small slit down the front through which peeped a thatch of chest hair. John's gaze travelled back up Rodney's body and came to settle on Rodney's face. There was something about his eyes - they seemed a more intense shade of blue than ever, and there was an odd kind of light in them.

"So." Rodney crossed his arms over his chest, and stood there, looking defiant and faintly embarrassed. "Are we going to the beach or what?"

John cleared his throat, hoping he didn't look like a total idiot. Several of the botanists were now giving him frankly envious looks and he didn't blame them. True, Rodney could hardly be classed as classically handsome, but what he was, and what John had never expected him to be, was *hot*.

"Sure…I…the puddle jumper is…this way," John said, and then he berated himself furiously because Rodney knew where the damn jumpers were. Rodney turned and started walking out of the mess hall and John hesitated, but only because the sight of Rodney's ass filling out all that tight fabric, plump and perfectly round, completely took his breath away. He fought down a moan, and tried not to imagine how it might feel to yank those pants down and slide his hands over that fantastic ass. John took a deep breath and then trotted after Rodney, trying to keep as cool as he knew how. He felt nervous but exhilarated at one and the same time. Rodney was *here*. He'd shown up - and he'd shown up looking like *this*! John caught up with Rodney and put a hand on his shoulder, and Rodney glanced around and gave him a little half-smile. John could have sworn that Rodney leaned in a little, and their footsteps altered so that they were walking in time with each other, which caused a little wave of euphoria to dance around inside John's belly.

It was a typically beautiful Atlantean summer day. John parked the jumper on a patch of wild grass leading down towards the beach, and then grabbed a bag containing some blankets and drinks and slung it over his shoulder.

"Is this it?" Rodney paused when they got to the beach, and gazed out at the little bay John had brought them to. The sand was a shade of pure white gold, and the sea lapped in azure blue waves against the shore.

"Yes. Beautiful isn't it?" John grinned at him.

"It's pretty, yes, but the thing is, I've never understood what you're supposed to do on a beach," Rodney muttered. "I mean - do we just sit here all day?"

"Kind of." John rolled his eyes.

"Sounds boring," Rodney commented.

"Quit whining and get your ass down here," John grinned at him. Rodney made a face at him but John noticed that there was a little smile tugging at the corners of his crooked mouth.

John threw a couple of blankets onto the sand and lay down on them, stretching out his body and soaking up the sun. Rodney sat down stiffly beside him, looking as if this was one step removed from total torture for him.

"I could be working you know," he said.

"It'll do you good to take a day off. You're always working," John told him.

"There's so much to do. So much about this place we don't know yet. And we're so exposed. The Wraith could turn up at any moment and…."

"I know," John interrupted him. "I worry about it too but that's all the more reason to take some time and live, rather than just work yourself into the ground, Rodney."

Rodney put his arms around his knees and stared at the sea glumly.

"You're not very good at enjoying yourself are you?" John sighed. Rodney shrugged.

"The best times I've ever had have been when I'm working," he replied, and there was just something about the way he said it that made John feel a little sad.

"Did your folks seriously never take you to the beach as a kid?" he asked. Rodney shook his head.

"Nope. I did try and take Jeannie once, after they died," he said. "She was studying really hard for some exams and I thought it would do her good to take a break. I think I was probably just trying to copy what I thought normal families do but it was a disaster."

"What happened?"

"I thought she was swimming in the sea, and I'd brought along my books so I could work on a paper I was writing, and next thing I knew it was getting late and she'd been gone for a couple of hours - so I went looking for her and found her making out with some Amazonian woman at least ten years older than her some way down the beach."

John winced. "Ouch," he muttered.

"Yeah." Rodney made a face. "At least it was clear she'd figured out her orientation if nothing else, and once I told this top how old Jeannie was she did at least have the grace to apologise and leave. Jeannie was mad at me though and sulked all the way home."

"Sounds like she was just trying to get your attention," John said. "I mean - you did bring your books to the beach and kind of leave her to it."

"Thank you, Colonel. I'm very well aware of my failings as both a big brother and a guardian," Rodney snapped.

"Can't have been easy though," John soothed. "I mean, how old were you when your parents died?"

"Eighteen."

"You were just a kid yourself - and you had to take care of Jeannie. That must have been hard."

There was silence for a moment. Rodney continued gazing at the sea, looking kind of hunched and miserable, clearly uncomfortable talking about this subject.

"My parents died when I was twenty-one," John said softly. He never told anyone about his parents, but he wanted to tell Rodney. Rodney's head swivelled around and those blue eyes of his had that familiar, horrified gaze that John had seen once or twice before, when someone on the expedition had been injured, or had died.

"I'm so sorry," he said. "They both died? Was it a car accident?"

"Nope. They were both in the military and they were life-bonded so…" John shrugged. "A mission went wrong, one of them was badly injured, and when he died…."

"Your parents were life-bonded?" Rodney was gazing at him intently. "I've never understood life-bonding. How does that work? How can two people be so *sure* something is going to be forever that they want to take the risk? Suppose you do it and ten years later you split up?"

"You must have to be very sure," John replied. "My dads were sure."

"Have you ever been tempted to life-bond?" Rodney asked, his fingers digging into the sand beside the blanket.

"No." John shook his head firmly. "Never."

"Me neither. My parents weren't exactly poster children for matrimony, let alone life-bonding. Do you have brothers and sisters?"

"No. No living relatives, either. After my folks died I was all alone." Rodney gazed at him and John gazed back, feeling something of a connection forming between them. John wasn't sure who'd had the hardest time of it - Rodney, having to take responsibility for his younger sister when he was still not much more than a kid himself, or John, just a few years older when his parents died, finding himself all alone in the world. "You and Jeannie must be close," John said, envying him that.

"You'd think," Rodney sighed. "We fell out and I haven't spoken to her for awhile."

"What happened?"

Rodney shook his head, his face scrunching up, angrily. "She's smart, Colonel - I mean, really *smart*. Maybe even as smart as me, and that's saying something." John laughed - he loved Rodney's casual, everyday arrogance. Rodney squinted at him, the sun making a halo around his wavy hair. "Well she *is*. I had such high hopes for her - I figured that if I didn't win a Nobel prize then at least she would - there was definitely a Nobel prize with the McKay name on it somewhere out there. Then…she just upped and threw it all away. Fell in love with some top and ran off with her. Abandoned her work and wanted to stay at home all day and be a house-slave. I can't stand subs who do that - think that somehow they've discovered the meaning of life just because they've had some hot sex and then all they want to do is wait on some stupid dumb top hand and foot. No offence."

"None taken," John grinned. "I'm not the kind of top who'd find that kind of devotion remotely appealing in any case. But…that was Jeannie's choice."

"It was the wrong choice!" Rodney growled.

"But still, her choice all the same."

Rodney's fingers dug more deeply into the sand beside him.

"She doesn't even know I'm here…what I'm doing. Sometimes I see things that would excite the scientist in her so much and it hurts that I can't tell her, or show her. I hadn't expected that when we came here. Missing her so much took me by surprise."

John gazed at him, suddenly understanding how so many flashpoints had ignited at the same time to make Rodney go so spectacularly off the rails upon their arrival in Atlantis.

"You know," he said, "the thing about beaches is that they're all about having fun - and I don't think you're very good at that, Rodney. So - it's time to get our feet wet."

"I have loads of fun!" Rodney bristled. "Just last week when Radek was uncoupling the naquada generator on level four, and...wait a minute - what do you mean get our feet wet?"

"Paddling - in the water." John pointed at the sea.

"It's a completely alien world, Colonel! There could be all kinds of deadly things in there!" Rodney protested.

"There aren't," John told him. "And you've gotta stop calling me colonel, Rodney. This is a date remember?"

Rodney actually flushed slightly at that, which was kind of adorable John decided. "Come on, Rodney - shoes off, and roll up your pants," John instructed, kicking off his own boots and starting work on his jeans. Rodney gazed at him suspiciously. "Or I could do it for you," John said, poised to lunge in the direction of Rodney's feet. Rodney batted him away and, grudgingly, removed his boots and socks to reveal two rather pleasant-looking feet. He rolled up his pants and followed John down to the water's edge, complaining all the way.

"The sand is really hot - and it feels gritty between my toes. I really can't see how anyone would class this as fun."

"Shut up and come here." John reached out a hand, grabbed Rodney's arm, and pulled him into the clear blue water.

"Ow! That's freezing!" Rodney complained, the water barely covering the tops of his toes.

"Well you were just complaining about the sand being too hot - so this is the perfect way to cool down," John told him. Rodney glared at him but John could see a light starting to shine in those blue eyes. John dragged him a little bit further in, so they were both ankle deep, and then he took a deep breath, loving the way the gentle breeze rifled through his hair, and the sun bathed his shoulders. It felt so good to be out here, relaxing, with Rodney by his side. He glanced sideways to see that Rodney was doing some relaxing of his own. Those broad shoulders of his seemed to be gradually unwinding, and John thought he could see just a glimpse of the man behind the troubled scientist - and maybe, just maybe, a glimmer of the lonely kid who'd had to grow up too soon - the same kid who had spent his recesses under the bleachers to avoid the school bullies. John decided that Rodney definitely hadn't had enough fun in his life - and he also decided that that was about to change. He bent down, trailed his fingers through the water, and then, very deliberately, flicked some at Rodney.

"Thank you very much! Now I'm soaked!" Rodney complained, gazing down at his water-spattered shirt. John grinned, and wondered when it would be appropriate to kiss Rodney. He didn't want to move too fast, too soon, but god it was agony being this close to him, with Rodney wearing those damn tight-fitting pants, and looking good enough to eat, and John having to go slow in case he frightened him off. John was so wrapped up in this train of thought that he didn't notice the cascade of water flying his way until it was too late, and his black shirt was drenched and sticking to his skin. He turned, to find Rodney looking at him with eyes that were far too innocent.

"Oh, you're *so* gonna have to pay for that," John said, wading forwards and scooping up a big handful of water.

Rodney's eyes widened, and he turned tail and hotfooted it out of the sea and back towards the safety of the blankets. John forgot about the water and chased after him, reaching him just before he got to the blankets. He threw himself at Rodney, wrestling him to the ground, and Rodney landed with a soft thwump on the sand, turning to fend John off with his hands. John jumped on top of him and managed to get his legs astride the wriggling, protesting, gasping scientist, and then John watched, in delighted disbelief, as Rodney's face suddenly convulsed, and a low, deep, gurgling sound started to emanate from his throat. Rodney was *giggling*. If he hadn't been sitting here, on top of the man, watching it, he would never have believed that the arrogant and irascible Dr McKay was actually capable of such a sound but here he was, twisting and turning and gurgling beneath him, his hair covered in tiny droplets of sea water and a fair smattering of golden sand. The sound was so infectious that John found himself laughing out loud too, uncontrollably, throwing back his head and roaring with laughter until his belly started to ache. Then, suddenly, they both stopped laughing and everything changed. The atmosphere became electric, charged with emotion, and Rodney went completely still beneath John's thighs. They locked gazes, Rodney's blue eyes growing dark and intense, and they stayed locked like that, completely lost in that moment. Then John reached down, took hold of Rodney's wrists in his hands, and pushed them over Rodney's head, keeping them pinned there, in the warm sand. Rodney didn't say a word - he just gazed up at John, his entire body limp and acquiescent under John's touch.

John leaned forward, slowly, oh so slowly, keeping Rodney's hands pressed into the sand above his head. Now there was no distance between them, and John's lips were on Rodney's, and he was opening Rodney's mouth with his tongue, plunging in deep. Rodney didn't taste of coffee, or anything else for that matter - he just tasted *good*, and John devoured him hungrily, like a starving man finally tasting a meal after a long famine. Rodney welcomed him in just as eagerly, exploring John's mouth with his own tongue, and John felt as if white lights were exploding throughout his brain, fizzing and sparkling. This felt unreal. It was what he had wanted to do for so long and now it was actually happening, and it was a million times better than he'd even fantasised.

He was sitting astride Rodney McKay, holding him down in the sand and kissing him wildly, their mouths locked. Rodney's body was trembling beneath him, and John felt as if something absolutely crucial to his entire existence had just slotted into place. Kissing had never felt like this before. Kissing had never made every single nerve-ending in his body tingle, had never made him feel like he was losing himself in the person he was with, or as if he could think about nothing else but the sub beneath him. He didn't want to stop kissing Rodney. He wanted to stay kissing him for the rest of his life. Rodney was moaning softly, and John pushed his hands deeper into the sand, asserting a little dominance, wanting Rodney to understand that he was *his* now, that John was claiming him, right here on this beach, demanding Rodney's submission. Rodney seemed to get the message because he relaxed even more, and his body quivered in surrender. John finally came up for breath, and gazed down on Rodney who was gazing back at him with a faintly astonished look in his eyes. John released one of Rodney's wrists but only so that he could gently run his hand down the side of Rodney's face.

"Oh god," he whispered. "I've wanted to do that for so long."

"Then do it again," Rodney said, craning his neck upwards eagerly. John grinned, and, taking hold of Rodney's face in both his hands, went back in for another deep, claiming kiss. They kissed for what felt like hours, out there on the white sand, beneath the blue sky, Rodney lying on his back in the sand, John sitting astride his waist. They stopped and started again, as if in the grip of something utterly outside their control, and, every time they finished kissing, John tried to release his grip on Rodney, only to find that he couldn't, and he had to kiss him again, and again. Finally, reluctantly, John allowed Rodney to sit up, and they staggered the few feet back to the blankets together. They lay down next to each other, face to face, and just rested there, gazing at each other. Rodney looked completely stupefied and John reached out and traced his fingers over the line of Rodney's thigh, then allowed his hand to slide over Rodney's ass and rest there, on top of the tight cotton fabric. He could feel the round contours of Rodney's firm, plump ass beneath his fingers and it caused his cock to stir, hungrily, in his pants.

"God I love your ass," he muttered.

"Really?" Rodney looked surprised.

"Really." John pulled him in close, and devoured his lips with another kiss. He couldn't get enough of kissing Rodney, and now he'd started he never, ever wanted to stop.

They lay there for a long time, just kissing, with John stroking Rodney's ass insistently with his hand the entire time. Finally, hunger drove them to get up and return to the puddle jumper for some food. It was a ten minute journey but somehow it took them over half an hour, as John stopped every few steps to pull Rodney in close for another kiss, unable to keep his hands off him. He had never, ever felt this way about a sub before, had never wanted a sub so much before. He had also never felt such toppy surges before - he was a good top, but it had always been a carefully played game to him before, something to bring pleasure to both him and his sub, but this…this felt real.

"Hey - this is all good stuff!" Rodney said, as they unpacked the food John had brought with them. "You got those meat roll things I like!"

"Yeah." John shrugged.

"This is all the food I like best!" Rodney exclaimed, as he examined the contents of the basket with inquiring fingers. John shrugged.

"Well, like you said, I've been sitting with you at meals for a few weeks now. I know what you like."

"You were taking note of the things I like to eat?" Rodney frowned and John wondered if he'd done something wrong but then he noticed the slightly amazed look in Rodney's eyes. "Nobody ever wanted to get me into bed *that* much before," he murmured.

"This isn't about getting you into bed, Rodney," John said sharply. "This is a whole lot more for me. You do know I'm not playing here, right?"

Rodney glanced up, clearly startled by the serious tone of John's voice. "I think I'm starting to see that, yes," he replied, in a quiet tone.

"No pressure. I just wanted you to know that it's not a game. It's for real," John told him firmly, because he wanted Rodney to be clear about this from the start. Rodney still looked startled but he nodded, biting his lip slightly, clearly a little confused. John guessed that nobody had ever spoken to him like this before, and he was pleased about that because he didn't want to have to handle the jealousy of knowing that Rodney had had this kind of conversation with any of his previous tops.

They ate together, talking quietly, stealing little glances at each other as they did so. After lunch they took a long walk along the seashore, hand in hand, while Rodney held forth on every subject under the sun, going from one subject to another, a study in animated enthusiasm, barely seeming to draw breath, his free hand gesticulating wildly the entire time. John liked listening to Rodney talk, and he only interrupted him in order to draw him in close for a kiss every few sentences, and then afterwards, when he was released, Rodney would take up talking where he'd left off, and John would run his thumb over the back of Rodney's hand, and smile to himself.

Every now and then he'd glance at Rodney, and as he did so he realised that slowly, bit by bit, Rodney was starting to let his guard down. John knew it would be a slow process - he wasn't expecting all of Rodney's well constructed walls to come crumbling down at once, but he did think that maybe he'd made a small dent in those carefully guarded defences. Rodney looked different - his lips were slightly swollen from all the kissing, and the sun revealed some golden highlights in his wavy brown hair, but mostly he just looked like he was unwinding after being locked up in a very small cage for a very long time. John liked this little glimpse he was getting of the real Rodney, the one who hid behind the sarcasm. This Rodney, he sensed, was a pretty nice person, still smart and still clueless, but kinder and braver than John guessed he usually allowed anyone to see.

"I like seeing this side of you," John interrupted suddenly.

"What do you mean?" Rodney frowned.

"I mean, I like seeing a glimpse of the real you - the man behind the mask," John told him. Rodney shook his head.

"You're the one who wears a mask, John," he replied. It was John's turn to frown. "You pretend not to care about anything - so laidback, so cool. Everyone thinks they know you but you never let them see beneath the surface," Rodney explained. "You're a little darker than people suspect, I think."

"And you're a little lighter, I think," John told him. They gazed at each other for a moment, each of them trying to get the measure of the other, and then John ran his thumb over Rodney's swollen lower lip. "I'm taking you as my sub," he said firmly.

"Yes," Rodney replied simply, bowing his head slightly.

"And you're happy to be taken?" John asked, with a little grin, well aware of the double meaning in the question.

"Judging by all this kissing we've been doing…I guess I am, yes," Rodney replied, looking a little bit surprised by that fact. He glanced at John with a question in his eyes, seeking permission to touch him, and John nodded. Rodney put his hand on John's chest, and rested it there. "You're my top now," he said softly. "You have my freely given submission."

They were traditional words, often said to mark the required consenting and cementing of a new relationship, but they'd never made John like this before. He felt a strong wave of possessiveness sweep through him, and he put his hand over Rodney's, where it rested on his chest, and pulled Rodney in close with his other hand for another deep kiss. Rodney was his sub. Rodney was *his* sub. True, he wasn't collared - yet - and they weren't sharing a plate, but it was a start, and, more than that, John knew it was the start of the most important thing in his life.

Reluctant to let the day go, they built a makeshift fire on the beach and sat together, wrapped up in a blanket, watching the sun go down. John had one arm clasped tightly, possessively, around Rodney, and after awhile they stopped talking, and Rodney rested his head on John's shoulder, and they just sat there, gazing at the hazy, glowing sky, until long after the sun had set. Only when it was completely dark did they get up and walk back to the puddle jumper, hand in hand.

"So, still think the beach is boring?" John asked. Rodney gave a little giggle, and it was a sound that John realised he wanted to hear - a lot - from now on.

"It was okay," Rodney replied, and John growled at him for this lukewarm response, and pinched that firm, enticing ass in retaliation. Rodney giggled again and twisted away from him, and John pulled him back and kissed him, hard, to make a point. "All right, better than okay," Rodney conceded when John let him up for air. "Pretty damn good actually," he said, pulling John back in for another kiss.

It felt strange to be back under the harsh lights of the city after such a magical day, and they walked in silence through the hallways. John had his arm around Rodney's waist, and he wondered, for the first time ever, how it would feel to put a leash on a sub. He wondered how Rodney would feel about that, and if it was something he'd want too. They came to a halt outside Rodney's quarters, and the scientist looked at him, uncertainly.

"Um…so…thanks. And…." He hesitated, and gazed at his feet, then looked up again. "Did you want to come in?" he asked.

John shook his head. "No," he said, and then amended that hastily when he saw a worried look flash into Rodney's eyes. "That is - I'd love to, but not tonight. I was thinking though…why don't you come to my quarters tomorrow evening? For dinner. I'll cook."

"You cook?" Rodney raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah. Pretty well. You?"

"Crap at it." Rodney shook his head. "I *eat* well though," he grinned.

"I'd noticed!" John rolled his eyes. "Come early - around six. So we have plenty of time because once we've got the eating out of the way, I'd like to explore my new sub's body."

Rodney shivered a little at that, and John smiled to himself. He was looking forward to unpeeling some more layers from Rodney's defences, and, most of all, he was *really* looking forward to finally getting his hands on that luscious ass.

"Okay. Good," Rodney said, and his voice sounded a little squeaky. John grinned, and leaned in for one final kiss, expertly claiming Rodney's mouth with his own, forceful and demanding, before, reluctantly, forcing himself to release his grip on his new sub, and take a step backwards.

"Good night, Rodney," he said softly.

Rodney didn't reply. He just stood there, in the doorway, looking completely and utterly dazed.

John walked back to his quarters feeling like he was walking on air. The day couldn't have gone better, and after all the long weeks of yearning he felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He cruised into his quarters, replaying the sensation of that first kiss and the eager press of Rodney's mouth against his own, over and over again. He took a shower and slid his hands over his cock, imagining how it would feel to feed it between Rodney's lips, to slowly slide into his warm mouth, his hands wrapped in Rodney's wavy hair. He came with a murmur of pleasure, knowing that soon it wouldn't be a fantasy, that soon he'd take his new sub to his bed, and give them both a night they'd never forget.

John got out of the shower and dried himself, and then walked back into his room. He gazed at the empty bed and felt a sudden pang of wanting Rodney here, now. He'd had him within touching distance - within *kissing* distance - all day, and now he found he missed him. He'd honestly never felt this way about a sub before, and the highs and lows were new to him. He wasn't sure that Rodney was in love with him - at least not yet - although he hoped that his new sub was well on his way there. He was certainly willing enough, and surely even Rodney couldn't deny that their kisses on the beach had been electric. As for himself, John knew that he was hopelessly, irrevocably, head over heels in love with Rodney. He had been for some time, as Carson had so accurately pointed out, but knowing it and having tangible proof of it, as he had today, were two entirely different things. Before today he hadn't known what it was like to kiss Rodney, to touch Rodney, to hold him, and to claim him, but now he did, and it was so intoxicating that he could think of little else.

John sat down on the bed and his gaze caught the little box on the nightstand. He opened it up and looked at the collar inside, stroking the shiny metal. He knew that he wanted to put this on Rodney - one day, when the time was right. He was mindful of the fact that Bates had wanted to put a collar on Rodney though, and he didn't want to rush the moment, in case he screwed it up and his skittish scientist backed off, frightened by the pace. John closed the case and put the collar regretfully back on the nightstand.

A thought occurred to him, and he went over to his closet and rummaged around in one of the drawers until he found a silver-framed photograph, and drew it out. The picture showed two men - one dark, one fair - with a small, seven year old kid standing between them, his freckled face screwed up in the sunlight. John carried the photo with him wherever he went but he never put it on display - it was always at the back of a cupboard somewhere, or the bottom of a bag. The loss of his fathers hurt too much; he'd walled off that pain a long time ago and didn't want any reminders of it. He knew that they had loved him, but their deaths had felt like an abandonment and he'd never forgiven them for that. Now though…now he thought he understood them a little better. He knew they'd be happy for him if they were here right now - and he wondered what they'd make of Rodney. Adam would tease the scientist unmercifully he suspected, while Gil would take some time to sit quietly with Rodney, and get to know the real person, to be sure that he was the right sub for his only son. John put the picture on his nightstand, next to the collar. It had been almost twenty years since they'd died, but now, for the first time, he thought he might almost be ready to forgive them.

 

~*~


	9. The List

John spent the following afternoon preparing for his date with Rodney. He wanted the night to be special, and he gave it a good deal of thought. He fished out his box of toys, and sifted through them, pondering how he wanted to play the evening.

He had some soft leather cuffs, which he placed on the nightstand, and there was a flogger made of knotted fur that could stroke a sub to ecstasy within minutes. He let his fingers rest on two cock rings - one metallic, and one leather, and then there were a variety of little clamps and clips.

He had a strap and a couple of paddles, and a very nice cock and ball restraint. There was a leg separator, a butt plug, a ball gag…John grinned at that last item. He wondered how someone as vocal as Rodney would react to being denied his voice, and decided that at some point he wanted to find out, but not tonight. Tonight he *wanted* to hear Rodney. He wanted to hear him pant, and moan, and beg, and sigh, and purr with pleasure.

John ignored the curled up whip, and a long, thin cane. Those weren't implements for a first date - he was very proficient with the whip, having taught himself how to wield it to excellent effect when he'd dated a young lieutenant a few years back who found the idea of being whipped in the open air, tied to a tree, unbelievably arousing. John had got off on his sub's evident pleasure, and he liked being an expert with the whip, and especially liked the technical aspects of whip play and the responses it coaxed from even the most closed off sub.

John pondered the paddle instead, wondering how Rodney's ass would feel, hotly spanked, beneath his fingers. Then there were the nipple clamps - he had two sets - one set mildly pinching, for little more than effect, and the other set meaning business.

There was a butt plug, completely new, still in its wrapping - John wondered what it would be like to open Rodney's teasing pink asshole with the tip of the plug, to press it home with his fingers and make Rodney keep it there, perhaps for hours.

Then there was bondage. Rodney would look good tied to his bed, face down, his legs spread wide, his head angled to one side, gazing up at John with pleading eyes….

All these ideas excited him, but they felt wrong. John wasn't sure why - he'd never been shy about getting out his box of toys before, not even on a first date, but not this time. This time was different. This time was special. John decided not to make any plans. He put the box on the nightstand and resolved to play it by ear.

John got dressed in a pair of tight black leather pants and a black shirt, complete with his usual wristbands and thunderbolt earring, and then sat back and waited for Rodney to arrive.

This time Rodney wasn't late. There was a knock on the door at precisely six p.m. and John crossed the room to open it, his heart doing a little flip in his chest as he went.

Rodney was standing outside looking just as nervous as John felt - and completely edible too. He was wearing a pair of soft black chinos that clung to his ass spectacularly, and a loose vivid-blue silk shirt that made his eyes shine an intense shade of blue to match it. John took one look at him, grabbed him by the arm, pulled him into the room, pushed him up against the wall, and kissed him. Rodney hung there, loose and boneless under John's hands, surrendering utterly and completely to the hungry kiss.

"God I've missed you," John told him when he finally allowed Rodney to come up for air.

"Really? Well, that's…good. And surprising. But good too. Definitely good," Rodney babbled and John grinned, glad that he wasn't the only one who was nervous.

"You look fantastic," John told him. "I meant to tell you that yesterday but I was too distracted by how hot you looked."

"Hot?" Rodney was clearly trying to look nonchalant but failing miserably. "Well, I mean, obviously I'm a very handsome man, but I'm not sure I've ever been called hot before."

"Oh you're hot," John grinned. "I thought I was going to have to fight off those botanists in the mess hall yesterday when they saw you."

"There were botanists in the mess hall yesterday?" Rodney looked surprised. "I only remember you, looking all cool with a mug of coffee."

John laughed at that - cool was the last thing he'd felt sitting in the mess hall yesterday morning, convinced Rodney wasn't going to show, but he decided not to tell Rodney that.

"What happened to your hair? I noticed you'd done something to it yesterday." John used that comment as an excuse to run his fingers through his sub's wavy locks. They were soft and silky under his touch.

"Oh that. I, uh, got Carson to lop a couple of inches off the ends - tidy it up," Rodney admitted, flushing slightly.

"You got Carson to do it?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah - in the middle of the night." Rodney winced slightly. "I think I have to stop calling on Carson in the middle of the night. He's always so grumpy. Plus, he had Ford with him again. Those two are such a bad combination."

"Oh, I don't know. Ford is young and eager to please, and Carson likes to spoil his subs. I suspect they make a good couple," John said, surprised by the news all the same.

"They make a terrible couple," Rodney disagreed. "Carson needs someone older and more mature, someone he can talk to. Sleeping with Ford must be like having to permanently restrain an over-excited puppy."

John snorted at that, because Rodney kind of had a point.

"Anyway, they're not a couple," Rodney rambled on. "They're just playing. Ford has it bad for Teyla, and Carson's just lonely."

"Oh." John felt a pang of sympathy for Carson. The doctor had been such a good friend to him during his heartache over Rodney, and he'd never considered that Carson might be looking for a love affair of his own.

"So, something smells good. I wanted to bring something with me, like wine or something, but I don't have any, not that I drink much anyway – well, most of the time. Of course when I *do* get drunk it can be pretty spectacular. Chocolates would have worked, flowers seemed stupid, although I don't know, some tops like those kinds of things, but let's be honest I'm never gonna be one of those kinds of subs, and…."

"Rodney - shut up and walk over there," John interrupted him.

"Over here? Why?" Rodney did as he was told anyway, walking over to the table.

"No reason - I just wanted to check out your ass in those pants," John grinned at him.

"What's the fascination with my ass?" Rodney wrinkled up his forehead.

"You'd need to see it as I do," John grinned. "And probably be a top too, and think of all the fantastic things that can be done to an ass like that."

Rodney flushed from his neck all the way up to the roots of his hair. John liked how vulnerable it made him look, and he went over and ran his fingers gently over the back of Rodney's neck, stroking him like a cat. Rodney immediately relaxed beneath his touch, and leaned into him in a way that John was starting to find incredibly endearing.

He was unable to resist pulling Rodney in for another deep kiss and then, reluctantly, let go of him because otherwise they'd never get to eat, and he didn't want Rodney passing out on him through low blood sugar just when he'd got him naked.

John started serving up their meal while Rodney hopped nervously around his quarters, talking non-stop, very little of it in any way coherent.

"So, I sent an email to Radek about the…but Carson can actually cut hair, although he'd deny it…wow, real leather…but no, sunburnt a bit from yesterday…amazing the city is still standing really as he'd cut off all the power and I was out of contact being kissed on a beach and…oh…are these your folks?"

John turned to find Rodney looking at the photo he'd put on the nightstand. "Yeah," he nodded.

"You look like him - is he the biological?" Rodney asked, pointing at Adam. It was common for same gender couples to hook up with another couple of a different sex. They usually agreed to have two kids - one for each set of couples. How they went about it was up to them - sometimes all four parties would take part in the actual act, so they all felt included, and sometimes it was done by artificial insemination, depending on how the couples in question felt.

"Yeah." John smiled, liking the rapt expression on Rodney's face as he gazed at the photo.

"You were cute. Well, you still are," Rodney babbled and then he looked stricken, as if he'd said too much.

"I'm glad you think so, considering the plans I have for later," John grinned at him.

He couldn't resist going over and putting a hand on Rodney's shoulder to calm him down again. There was something so incredibly loveable about how clueless Rodney was - and John was amused by how easily panicked he was as well. He knew the scientist was socially dysfunctional but that didn't faze him at all - he just enjoyed the fact that he knew how to calm Rodney down with a look, or a judicious stroking - and he suspected he'd find some other methods that worked well too.

"What's this?" Rodney asked, picking up the box with the collar in it, and fumbling it between his big fingers.

"That's not for tonight," John said, smoothly intercepting the box and rescuing it from Rodney's sweaty palms. "But maybe one day," he said softly, putting the box back on the nightstand. "Now, you need to calm down, Rodney."

Rodney gazed at him, his blue eyes stricken. "I'm getting stuff wrong," he said. "I know that. Yesterday wasn't so bad because I was pretty sure I didn't like you and nothing was going to happen but then it did, and then you kept kissing me, and now I'm your sub and you want to *explore* me, and I wasn't expecting any of this so I'm totally freaked out and you're *hot* so I have no idea why you've picked me to be all deep and meaningful with when you could be shallow and have a whole harem of subs in your bed."

"Ssh," John said, running his thumb gently over Rodney's lower lip. "You're doing fine. You just need to relax. Come and eat - that should help."

"I do like to eat," Rodney agreed, looking happier.

"So, you came along to the beach yesterday even though you were pretty sure you didn't like me?" John grinned as they sat down at the table. Rodney looked confused.

"Is that a bad thing to admit? But you're military and I just assumed it would go wrong or be unpleasant because frankly, that would sum up my love life so far, but then it kept being good, and…nice, and the kissing was hot, and…before I knew it somehow I'd agreed to let you be my top, and I was totally not expecting that. Too much again?" He grabbed some bread and thrust it into his mouth, whole, and starting chewing. John frowned.

"No…well, maybe a little," he said. "And you could try slowing down a little - both with the eating and the talking."

"Slower. Right. Okay." Rodney said, around his mouthful.

John grinned at him. God he loved this man, and that was kind of surprising of and by itself, because he'd never have imagined his ideal partner would be a brilliant scientist completely lacking in social skills. Rodney grew calmer as they ate, and he was duly impressed by John's culinary skills, which was gratifying.

"God, this is fantastic! Better than that stuff they serve up in the mess hall, although actually I quite like a lot of that stuff. But this is *good*. How did you learn to cook?"

"My dad - Gil - insisted on it. He was big on self-sufficiency," John replied. "Also, it was something we could share. Adam hated cooking and he was such a big personality it was good to have some quiet time alone, just me and Gil, cooking, side by side. I was too small to reach the worktop as a kid so Gil built me a special stool so I could see what I was doing."

"Really? Wow. My parents lived on take out. I didn't even know there was any other kind of food for years," Rodney replied, finishing his meal and sitting back with a happy sigh.

They talked over coffee for a long time, and the conversation was easy and comfortable now that Rodney's verbal diarrhoea had dried up. They came to a natural pause, and gazed at each other over their empty coffee mugs, and John cleared his throat, feeling his cock shift inside his pants in eager anticipation of what would come next.

"Right," Rodney said, flushing again in response to the frankly sexual look that John was giving him. "Okay. It's that time now I think. Right. Um…I should talk about the stuff I did with my previous tops. Oh, and I brought my list." He fumbled around in his pocket, retrieved a folded piece of white paper, and slid it across the table at John.

"What's this?" John frowned, taking the piece of paper.

"My list," Rodney repeated blankly. "We're…we're negotiating now, right? Agreeing to what kind of stuff we like to do. It's that time of the evening isn't it?"

John gazed at him, feeling slightly winded. It was common practice for play partners to negotiate, but this wasn't a sex game as far as John was concerned - and he'd never, ever had a play partner who'd provided him with a *list* before. Although, thinking about it, it was kind of a Rodney thing to do.

He picked up the piece of paper and glanced at it. Rodney seemed to have made a neat spreadsheet of all the sexual practices he could think of and then graded them according to whether he'd do them or not, and how he liked them done if he *did* do them. John read through the list until he'd had enough, and then he looked up, and, very slowly, and very purposefully, screwed up the list and threw it into the waste basket.

"What?" Rodney protested. "Why did you do that? That's my list!"

"Rodney, I can't make love to you using a list," John told him, shaking his head.

"But…why not? It's safe sex!" Rodney replied.

"Rodney, I'm not taking you as a play partner," John explained. "I want to make love to you, not just fuck you."

"There's a difference?" Rodney frowned.

John threw his napkin on the table and got up angrily. "Yes there's a difference and you know that. You're just being obtuse!" he growled.

"I always negotiate," Rodney said, pushing out his chin obstinately. John felt his heart sink, knowing *that* sign all too well. "All the safe subs do that. Are you an unsafe top, John?"

"No I'm damn well not!" John exploded, furious. Rodney looked startled.

"Okay, because you're looking kind of unsafe right now," he muttered. John took a deep breath.

"I'm just upset. Look, Rodney, I thought I made it clear to you yesterday - you're my sub now, and we're not playing at this. This is the real deal. I told you that yesterday. I told you I wasn't playing."

"I don't understand," Rodney said helplessly.

"It's simple. I want you, Rodney; body, mind, heart and soul. I don't want any damn list."

"Supposing I don't like what you want to do to me," Rodney said suspiciously. "Because I've been there, done that, and it was really unpleasant."

"I'm asking you to trust me," John told him.

Rodney's eyes clouded over, troubled. "What about a safe word?" he asked. John shook his head and Rodney's eyes widened. "You ask me to trust you and you won't even give me a safe word?"

"You don't need a safe word because we aren't playing!" John said desperately, wondering how the hell he could explain this. "If you don't like something I do to you then you can just tell me! It's not a scene, Rodney. It's for real. I want your real responses."

Rodney sat there, his shoulders tense and hunched. "I can't do that," he said miserably.

"Why not? Because it's too intimate? Because you won't let your guard down?" John pressed. Rodney just shook his head, mutely. John knelt down in front of him, and put his hands on his knees. "What are you so afraid of, Rodney? Letting someone in, letting someone care about you?"

"You're asking me to go into this blind. To let you do anything you want."

"I'm asking you to give up control - isn't that what being a sub is all about?" John said, stroking Rodney's knees gently. "You give up control and I take it? It's a journey we can both go on together."

Rodney gazed at him, shaking his head. "Maybe when I get to know you better," he said. "Maybe we can build up to that? You could start out with the list and…."

"No. No, we do this together, from the beginning, feeling our way, or we don't do it at all." John told him firmly.

"I don't see what's wrong with just following the list," Rodney snapped.

John got up, went over to the waste basket, and fished out the list. "How about this for starters," he said, smoothing it out and putting it on the table, leaning over Rodney's shoulder and pointing. "Anal penetration. You don't do anal penetration? What the hell is that about?"

Rodney flushed. "I don't like it. It hurts. I used to see this woman and she had this strap-on…and I hated it. Then there was this guy and…well, I only let him do it once because it was too painful, and I panicked, and it ended badly. There's plenty of other stuff I like though. I give truly spectacular blowjobs if I do say so myself, so my tops don't usually mind that I won't do other stuff. Here, let me show you."

He made to get up, but John put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down.

"I'm sure the blow jobs *are* truly spectacular," he said. "But, Rodney, I'm going to want to make love to that fantastic ass of yours. That's non-negotiable. There is no way I'm going to be able to have that ass so tantalisingly close and not be able to sink myself into it - into *you*. I want to make love to you every which way it's possible - I want to throw you onto your back and look into your eyes when I enter you, and I want to lie behind you and open your ass cheeks and slide into you, slowly and lazily, and I want to put you on your hands and knees and take you from behind, raw, and fast, and hard, until you pass out from pleasure."

Rodney stared at him, looking utterly stunned.

"If it hurts we can work on that," John told him softly, running his fingers gently up and down Rodney's cheek. "But I suspect it only hurts because you don't trust anyone and that means you never relax. You never *really* let anyone in, Rodney, and this is just symbolic of that. Everything you say screams at people to keep their distance - all the sarcasm, all the snarking. I won't be kept at bay, Rodney. I want you, and I want all of you, and I won't be held back by some goddamn list!"

"I can't!" Rodney shook his head.

"You can." John took hold of his face, and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips. Rodney shivered under his touch, and leaned in towards him, and John wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. "Surrender to me, Rodney," he whispered when the kiss finished. "Have you ever really surrendered to anyone before, or has it always just been a game?"

"I don't know. I can't…I've never…."

John saw his answer in Rodney's eyes. Rodney was undoubtedly an eager, compliant sub, but he never went outside his comfort zone, and never really submitted to the will of his top. He only gave as much of himself as he needed in order to get off. John empathised with him - he didn't think he'd ever truly taken responsibility for any of his subs before - he'd been playing at it as much as Rodney had, taking what he needed in order to enjoy the sex, but never really taking control. Now he wanted to do that - he wanted to do this for real, and have Rodney come with him on the journey. He knew it wouldn't necessarily be easy, but he suspected it would be all the sweeter for that.

"You won't know if you don't try," John said, cradling Rodney's face between his hands. "I think it'll be good - and you can trust me, Rodney, I promise."

"I'm not good at trusting people."

"I know, and I can understand why, from everything you've told me about your upbringing," John said quietly. Rodney stared at him from frightened blue eyes. "Come on. Come over here. Let's do this together," John said, getting up and taking hold of Rodney's arm, leading him over to the bed. Rodney went, but then stopped before they got there.

"I can't," he said again. "I honestly can't. This is never going to work, Colonel. You're asking too much of me!"

They stood there, face to face, and then Rodney's face crumpled, and he shook his head, and walked swiftly to the door.

"I'll still be here, Rodney," John told him. "If you change your mind."

"Why can't you do it my way?" Rodney said, desperately, turning in the doorway.

"Because I love you," John told him, and it felt like such a relief to finally get the words out. Rodney's eyes widened, and he looked completely and utterly shocked. "I mean it. I love you and I want to do this right - for both of us - and that means not doing it your way, Rodney."

"You love me? How can you love me? When did this…?" Rodney just looked flummoxed.

"I've been in love with you for a long time - I just didn't want to spook you. Look, Rodney, I told you - I've been celibate for over a year and I can wait a bit longer. I'll wait for as long as it takes. You're my sub, Rodney, and I'm not giving up on that."

Rodney gazed at him blankly, his blue eyes completely at a loss. "I don't understand any of this," he muttered at last.

"Then take your time. Get your head around it," John told him calmly. "I won't pressure you but when you come back here, I'll want your complete surrender, Rodney. I'll want to love you and make love to you, to be both your top and your lover. I won't accept anything less - and no list. Just you and me."

Rodney shook his head. "I don't think I can give you what you want. You should go and fall in love with someone else," he said.

"Too late." John gave a rueful grin. "And I'm not put off that easily. I'm not going anywhere, Rodney. I'm going to be here, waiting until you come to me."

Rodney didn't say anything more. He just turned, and walked out of the room, taking John's heart and hopes with him.

 

~*~

 

Rodney returned to his room in a complete daze. He thought he had known what to expect from this evening, and he'd been looking forward to at least some good sex. He didn't expect it to last, but he thought he'd take what was on offer while it was on offer. He'd asked around - discreetly - and nobody had anything negative to say about Sheppard. As far as it was possible to know, he assumed the colonel would be a safe enough top.

Rodney had never had a close or lasting relationship - he'd had crushes on people a couple of times, but had never been in love. In fact, his feelings of friendship for Carson and Elizabeth aside, the only person he'd ever loved was his sister. Yet here was John, standing there, saying he loved him, and Rodney didn't know where that had come from.

None of his previous tops had been all that enamoured of him. One had simply enjoyed fucking with his mind, and one had found him amusing but too much like hard work. None of them had shown any indication of loving him, and, to be fair, Rodney had never wanted that. His parents were lousy role models for how relationships worked, and, as a result, he had never believed in romantic love. He remembered that picture of John's parents, laughing at the camera, clearly very much in love, and sighed - the colonel obviously had a much rosier view of relationships than he did.

Rodney threw himself down on his bed and gazed at the ceiling. On one level he felt flattered - John was a good looking man, and, more than that, he was a popular man - intelligent, likeable, funny and strong. He had it all, and Rodney had no idea what attracted him to an irascible scientist like himself. On another level Rodney was just plain miffed - it had been a long time since he'd had any decent sex and John had looked hot this evening.

Rodney closed his eyes and remembered John's long legs, encased in all that firm black leather, and the way he moved around the room, like a caged panther waiting to pounce. He'd wanted to be pounced upon, dammit! He'd wanted to be thrown down onto the bed and very comprehensively mauled if he was honest - but not without the safety net of ultimately being in control of the whole event. Rodney just didn't trust anyone enough to give them that degree of power over him.

He'd learned his distrust at his mother's capricious knee, knowing that any sign of affection from her was usually manufactured as part of her ongoing war with their father. His father had been even worse, demanding constant reassurance that Rodney loved him more than his mother, and sulking for weeks on end if Rodney did the slightest thing that made him suspect that wasn't the case. Rodney had never been good at interpreting complex emotional signals, and between the manipulations of his mother, and the emotional demands of his father, he had ended up thoroughly confused. Now he simply didn't trust that anyone might love him for himself - yet, try as he might, he couldn't think what John's ulterior motive might be.

What if…what if John was telling the truth? What if the man really was in love with him? What would it be like to surrender to him without the safety net of his list and his safe word? Could Rodney ever bring himself to trust someone that much that he'd just let go, let his guard down, let them in? He didn't think so. It wasn't that he didn't want to, just that he *couldn't*.

He hadn't anticipated any of this. He had thought the beach date would be a disaster, and that John would soon lose interest in him, but instead there had been all those hot kisses, hundreds of them, searing his lips and leaving him dazed and confused. Then there had been that impossibly romantic stroll along the beach, hand in hand. For the first time in his life Rodney hadn't tried to over-think the occasion - he'd just gone along with it and allowed himself to be swept up by it. But that was just one day, and Rodney was under no illusions that one day, no matter how romantic, could be the basis for a life-long relationship of the kind that John seemed to be suggesting.

Rodney spent a sleepless night, tossing and turning, trying to figure out a way he could have John but not on John's terms, but he didn't come up with a solution. He was just getting dressed the following morning when there was a knock on the door. He opened it and his heart immediately flipped when he saw John standing there, dark hair tousled, smiling at him.

"Morning, Rodney." John leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his cheek and Rodney just stared at him, wondering what the hell was going on. John had said he would wait, that there was no pressure - turning up here at the crack of dawn wasn't Rodney's definition of 'no pressure' and he thrust out his jaw belligerently.

"If you're here about last night I haven't changed my mind," he snapped.

"I'm not." John gave one of those deceptively lazy smiles. "I'm here because today is the first day of your drills, remember?"

"What?" Rodney glared at him. He'd completely forgotten about the stupid, hand-to-hand combat drills that the colonel was so intent on putting him through. "Oh. Well…why did you just kiss me?" he demanded.

"You're my sub - I haven't seen you since last night, and I was wishing you good morning. You think a kiss isn't appropriate?" John raised an eyebrow.

"But…last night…we didn't have sex!" Rodney blurted, because he felt that was somehow central to the whole discussion. John gazed at him steadily.

"No, we didn't," he drawled eventually, making it sound like he was talking to an imbecile. "Am I only supposed to be affectionate towards you if you put out?"

"Yes! No! Hell, I don't know. I'm confused enough as it is," Rodney grumbled.

"Well then let's forget about that and get on with the drills," John said and Rodney wasn't happy about that, either, but at least it got them off the tricky discussion.

He ambled down to the practice room beside his top, and John rested his hand on Rodney's shoulder as he always did when they walked anywhere these days. Rodney was still pondering the whole 'you're my sub' comment. True, John had taken him as his sub and Rodney had formally accepted him as his top, but in light of what had happened the previous evening it didn't *feel* like they were sub and top.

Major Lorne was waiting for them when they got to the practice room and they got warmed up with some stretches, and then John pointed to the mat.

"Okay - we need to figure out what to do if you get captured again," he said. "Like the other day."

"The chances of that happening again must be very low," Rodney protested.

"But it could happen," John said firmly and there was a look in those hazel eyes of his that said that no matter how obstinate Rodney could be, when John got an idea into his head he could be equally stubborn. Rodney sighed - on this at least he could see that he'd have to give in.

"All right. Whatever," he said sulkily.

"Okay. Now, Lorne, if you'd like to grab Rodney from behind, one arm across his neck… that's it."

Rodney stood there, while Lorne did as he was told, holding Rodney in a pretty secure neck lock. Rodney didn't like the sensation - he could hear Lorne's breathing in his ear and the man's arms were slightly sweaty across his body. Rodney fought down an urge to twist out of the major's grasp, and looked expectantly towards John for further instructions. John was just standing there though, glaring at them, breathing heavily, a frown creasing his forehead, his hands clenched into fists by his side.

"Well?" Rodney demanded. "Are you going to show me some fancy footwork or what?"

"No," John said, in a tight voice. "This isn't going to work like this. Lorne, take your hands off him. I'll play the part of your attacker, Rodney."

"Oh for god's sake! What the hell is wrong…?" Rodney began but then he had a sudden flash of startled realisation; even though the colonel had told Lorne to grab him, he wasn't at all happy to see another top with his arms around Rodney. John was…jealous?

John stomped towards him, exchanging places with Lorne, and, standing behind Rodney, slid his arms around him, holding him tight. Rodney's body behaved the way it always did when John got close to him - he went completely limp in his arms, and leaned back into John. He was annoyed with himself, and wished his body didn't betray him like this whenever John was around, but he didn't seem to have any control over himself.

John was still breathing heavily but, unlike with Lorne, Rodney *liked* the sound. It made him glaze over and lean back even more. John's arms tightened around Rodney, and they were now pressed much closer together than was strictly necessary. Rodney could feel the hard outline of the colonel's body against his back, and he loved the way it felt to be captured, imprisoned within John's arms like this.

"Okay," John said, in a low tone, directly into his ear. "When I say the word, I want you to come towards us, Lorne. Rodney, don't do anything until I tell you." Rodney's cock started to stir in his pants at the sound of his top's voice, so close and commanding.

"No, no, no. This isn't going to work either!" Rodney said, trying to elbow his way out of John's grasp. John released him.

"Why the hell not?" he demanded.

"For a very similar reason to why it didn't work for you when Lorne was playing at being my attacker," Rodney growled, glancing down at his pants which were ever so slightly tented at the front. John glanced down too, and a look of realisation flashed into his eyes. Lorne, standing behind them, didn't see any of this.

"Oh," John muttered.

"Yes. Well." Rodney flushed, feeling embarrassed. "Is there any other way of doing this?"

"Can you think of one?" John shrugged. Rodney shrugged back. "Okay then," John said, in a falsely bright tone. "Let's leave that one and try something else. How about…what to do if someone comes at you with a knife?"

The rest of the drill session passed without incident and Rodney took a shower, got changed, and set off for his lab. He was surprised, at noon, when John arrived in the lab, and settled his long body into one of the chairs, swinging on it aimlessly.

"Were you waiting for something, Colonel?" Rodney asked tetchily, still far too confused by everything that was happening to be polite.

"You. It's lunchtime," John told him with that lazy smile of his.

"I'm busy," Rodney said tersely, because it was freaking him out that John was behaving just like he had before Rodney had refused to sleep with him.

"Not too busy to eat," John said. "You like eating."

"I know, but right now I'm busy."

"Then finish up and we can have lunch."

Rodney glanced up at the slight note of steel in the colonel's voice. John's hazel eyes glowed in that deceptively good humoured way but he clearly had no intention of going anywhere.

"Hypoglycaemic remember?" John told him.

"And I've managed the condition perfectly well for the past 37 or so years, Colonel," Rodney snapped at him. "Who appointed you as my personal health supervisor anyway?"

John shrugged. "You did. A couple of days ago. On the beach," he said softly. Rodney gazed at him, stricken. John *meant* it. He really was that kind of top - concerned, caring, but kind of no-nonsense too. Rodney wondered what he'd do if Rodney told him where to go…but then he remembered that punishment session and decided he didn't want to risk it. Not that he thought John would throw him over his knee right here and now when there were people around but… the truth was he didn't know John well enough to know *what* he'd do. With a pained sigh, Rodney finished up and allowed his top to escort him to the mess hall.

Of course he could just repudiate him, Rodney thought to himself a few days later, as John once again made one of his small but serious suggestions - this time that Rodney was working too late and should leave the lab and go to bed.

"I haven't finished," Rodney told him curtly, toying with the idea of repudiation. All he had to do was tell John their arrangement was over, that he wasn't his sub any more, and they could put a stop to all this…and yet…something was stopping him from doing that.

"You're beat. You've been working on this for eighteen hours solid and you need some rest," John told him firmly.

"It's my job," Rodney snapped at him. The lab was empty so there was no danger of anyone overhearing them. Rodney wasn't sure where they stood on that anyway. He'd accepted John as his top but they weren't exactly at the sharing a plate stage yet so nobody knew about it. Rodney hadn't even told Carson - he was too confused by the whole not-having-sex thing and he was pretty sure he knew what Carson's advice on *that* would be.

"It'll still be there tomorrow. We're not under attack or anything. This can wait," John said, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. It was the ultimate in mixed messages, Rodney decided. John pretending to be lazily unconcerned, but the crossed arms making it clear he meant what he was saying.

"We should maybe have a talk about how this works between us," Rodney said, gesturing with his fingers back and forth between the two of them. "You see, I've never had a top that really cared what I ate, or what time I got to bed before. Mostly they only cared that I sucked them off or genuflected appropriately at their feet. You, on the other hand, seem not to care that I'm not sucking you off, but you *do* seem to care when I work too hard."

"Ah - so you admit you're working too hard," John said, with a grin. Rodney fought down a sigh of exasperation. "Rodney - I told you, I love you," John said. "I care about you and I've seen how you don't always take very good care of yourself. You collapsed on me just a few weeks ago remember?"

Rodney thrust his jaw out. "There were circumstances there that…."

"I know." John nodded. "But I'm not sure how much those circumstances have changed, Rodney. I think you're doing better than you were - you sure as hell *look* better." His eyes travelled appreciatively over Rodney's body in a way that made Rodney's cock start to harden. "But I don't think you're completely out of the woods yet, and I want to make sure you stay on track. A lot has happened to you these past couple of months and, now I'm your top, I want to make sure you don't backslide."

"Are you honestly telling me that you care what I eat and what time I get to bed? Because it seems to me that this is more of a control thing," Rodney muttered.

John's body language changed completely at that - and Rodney knew he'd just pissed him off. John pushed himself away from the wall and walked over to where Rodney was standing.

"I know you're not used to someone caring about you so I'm going to let that remark pass - this time," John told him, in a low, ominous tone. "But don't ever talk to me like that again. We haven't talked about discipline yet, but we can, if you really want."

Rodney stared at him, a little shaken by the sincerity in his top's voice. John's expression softened, and he reached out an unexpected arm, looped it around Rodney's neck, pulled him close, and kissed him gently on the lips.

"You have to get used to having someone around, Rodney," he said softly. "You're not on your own any more."

"So you seriously didn't come here for a blowjob?" Rodney muttered into John's neck. John laughed.

"No. I don't care how truly spectacular they are. I want your heart, Rodney, and I'll see that in   
your eyes when I take you for the first time. Not that I'm not looking forward to the blowjobs too but there's plenty of time for that." He kissed Rodney again, and then glanced around the lab. "Take ten minutes to finish up and then get some rest, Rodney," he said, before walking towards the door.

"Wait - you're not going to hang around to make sure I do?" Rodney asked, surprised.

John shook his head. "Nope. I trust you," he replied, and the little curving grin on his face made it clear that he was hoping that one day Rodney would return the favour.

Rodney thought about this for the next ten minutes. If John *had* hung around and made a big deal out of it then Rodney knew he'd have fought him on the subject tooth and nail - and won - but the fact that John had just made his point and left struck a chord with him somehow.

He *was* feeling kind of tired, and it did feel nice to have someone who cared about him and worried if he worked himself into the ground, so, ten minutes later, he packed up his stuff and left the lab. He just hoped that John wasn't lurking anywhere, watching him, because he really didn't want him to know that he was obeying his orders.

A week later, Rodney found himself offworld with the team, on the trail of another ZPM. There was some kind of power-dampening field that meant they had to land the puddle jumper and walk for a couple of days towards the energy signal.

Rodney was in two minds about the whole expedition. On the one hand, he was excited by any kind of mission that had the word 'ZPM' in it. On the other hand, the idea of a two day trek through the planet of unending rainfall didn't appeal to him in the slightest. And then there was the fact that he'd be spending even more time than usual with his erstwhile top, about whom he had some very conflicting emotions….

Rodney shouldered his backpack with a sigh as they set off. John wasn't an easy man to avoid but at least when Rodney was working he could forget about the dilemma in his personal life. In the safety of his lab, and his quarters, he was quite resolute about the fact that he would never agree to John's terms, but when he was around the actual man himself, his body seemed to have ideas of its own, and he was finding it increasingly hard to control his responses to the colonel.

Today was no different. Rodney found himself walking behind Sheppard, his gaze fixed on the colonel's ass in his BDUs, painfully aware that even straggling along like this, rain pouring down his waterproof cape and trickling into his eyes, he was semi-erect.

It was a miserable trek, and the rain never let up once - and neither did Rodney's litany of complaints, which he kept up continuously as he got more and more damp and cold. John remained ridiculously cheerful throughout though, and every now and then he'd turn and give Rodney what was probably supposed to be an encouraging smile. Rodney could barely bring himself to glower back in return.

They decided to camp for the night as dusk fell. They had brought two small, lightweight tents with them, and found some shelter beneath some tall trees which kept the worst of the rain off them.

"We have to sleep in those?" Rodney grumbled, surveying the small tents. "The ground is bumpy! I'll wake up with backache and be unable to walk tomorrow - that's if I get any sleep at all because I'm damp and it's cold and I can never get to sleep if my feet are cold. I've always hated camping anyway. It's uncomfortable, and there are bugs."

"Is there anything you haven't whined about today?" Ford snapped, looking close to losing his temper.

"That's enough." John stepped between them with one of those calm smiles of his, with just a hint of steel beneath the surface. "I always thought camping was kind of fun," he added, radiating a kind of insane good humour that was hard to resist, and which succeeded in diffusing the situation. "And I think the tents look kind of cosy."

Rodney rolled his eyes but didn't say anything more, and Ford just glared at him and turned away. They ate, huddled together under a shelter Teyla had constructed from their waterproof capes, and then there was nothing else to do but go to bed.

"I'll share with Teyla," Ford said eagerly, before anyone else got a chance to put in a request for a sleeping partner. "Sorry, Colonel," he grinned, flashing John a rueful smile and grimacing slightly in Rodney's direction when he thought the scientist wasn't looking. Rodney felt his mouth settle into a crooked line, and his jaw jut out. Much as he was used to these kinds of casual jibes, a lifetime of familiarity with them didn't make them any more pleasant to receive.

"Sounds good to me," John replied amiably, putting a hand on Rodney's shoulder and squeezing. Ford looked a little surprised but he was so eager to get some alone time with Teyla that he just laughed, and threw himself into the tent. Rodney glowered after him. He wondered whether Teyla would ever take pity on Ford and put him out of his misery but somehow he doubted it. There was something cool and aloof about the Athosian woman, and he suspected she was the kind of top who chose her subs very carefully indeed.

Rodney realised that John was watching him with amused hazel eyes, and now, suddenly, he woke up to the fact that he was about to spend an entire night crushed up at very close quarters with a man he had spent the past couple of weeks avoiding, wherever possible. John opened the tent and pulled the flap aside, and, with a sigh, Rodney trudged over and got in.

 

The tents were tiny - just enough room for two people to sleep side by side. Rodney unpacked his bedroll and sat down on top of it to remove his boots. There was no point getting completely undressed, so he just loosened his belt, took off his jacket, and unfurled his bedroll. John slid in beside him and zipped up the tent.

"I'm sorry about this," Rodney told him. "I mean…obviously it's awkward."

"Why?" John took off his jacket and hung it from the roof of the tent to dry out, then toed off his boots and slid into his bedroll.

"Well, because…you know…" Rodney floundered. "I'll put my pack down the middle so we don't have to get that close." He put his backpack in place, and then scooted over as far as possible towards the edge of the tent.

John smiled at him, and then leaned over, removed the backpack, and slung it down by Rodney's feet. Then he reached out, put one arm around Rodney, and pulled him back against him so they were snuggling close together in the small tent.

"Uhh…" Rodney said.

"Relax," John told him. "You're my sub. I want to hold you."

Rodney lay there, blinking. Truth was, being held by John was extremely nice, and his body didn't seem to need much ordering to relax - it was already melting back against John the way it always did when the colonel got close. He felt John's lips against the back of his neck, bestowing a fond little kiss, and sighed.

"I'm not having sex with you," he said, in case John had misinterpreted that sigh as a sign of weakness.

"I know. Apart from anything else I doubt you brought your list along," John said, a definite note of amusement in his voice.

"Ha ha," Rodney responded, mirthlessly. John laughed into his ear, and then kissed him on the back of his neck again.

"I'm looking forward to just holding you all night," John told him. "Feels good." He squeezed his arm around Rodney, and pulled him in even closer. Rodney sighed again, and closed his eyes. It did, definitely, feel good.

Despite his dire prognostications that he wouldn't get any sleep, he actually slept like a log - better than he ever slept in his own bed back on Atlantis, and he woke, around dawn, to find himself lying with his head on John's chest, and his arms wrapped around his top's body. He blinked, trying to figure out where he was, and then he remembered, and came to. He hoped John was asleep and hadn't noticed that his sub was lying almost on top of him, in a pose of abandoned surrender, and he started to move but froze when he felt John's hands ghost gently over his back. He glanced up, and saw the flash of John's eyes and teeth in the dim morning light.

"Hey - you're awake." John moved his hand up and wrapped it in his hair, stroking softly. Rodney wanted to tear himself away but it felt too warm and too good, and, with a whimper, he let his head drop onto John's chest again. They rested there for awhile, and then John's hand went lower, dipping down the back of Rodney's pants and covering his ass. Rodney's cock, already semi-hard, perked up even more.

"One day, when you're ready, I'm going to undress you - very slowly," John murmured into his ear. Rodney went quite still, all his senses flaring into life at the promise in John's words. "Not until then though - I want to savour the moment," John told him, and his hand began to slowly, rhythmically, stroke Rodney's bottom. "There are so many things I want to do to you," John whispered. "So many things I know you'll enjoy - and maybe even a few you won't enjoy, but I'll make you submit to them just because it'll be so sweet to see the look of surrender in your eyes. I think you'll get off on that, once you give yourself up to it. I think it'll make you come harder than you've ever come in your life before, but first you need to learn to let go a little."

Rodney swallowed down hard, his entire body trembling in response to his top's words. The stroking was so seductive, and now John was cupping his hand around one of his butt cheeks, and kneading it. Rodney bit down a little whimper.

"I bet you look beautiful when you surrender, Rodney," John was whispering. "I bet you shiver and shake and yell and scream - I don't want you to keep anything in. I like the idea of how responsive you'll be when I slide my tongue into your ass.

Rodney moaned, and pressed himself against John. "Not now though," John told him. "Not here. When you're ready. When you trust me."

Rodney raised his head and looked at John in the half-light. John grinned at him, his teeth flashing again.

"God you're good," Rodney sighed. "And evil."

"I try my best," John grinned at him. "Now, roll over and lie on your side, facing me."

"Why?" Rodney asked suspiciously.

"Because I want to kiss you, and I believe we've established that kissing is one of the things you'll do without me having to refer to the list," John said, moving his body so that Rodney rolled onto his side next to him, and they were lying there, face to face. Then John reached out, stroked Rodney's cheek, and pulled him in for a kiss.

Kissing shouldn't really be this good, Rodney thought to himself. He'd never really seen the appeal of it all that much before - it was just something that happened as part of sex. John though, seemed to enjoy kissing without anything else happening at all, and Rodney was starting to get a subtle appreciation for that himself.

When John was kissing him he lost all sense of himself - there wasn't some small section of his brain working overtime pondering some equation, or wondering if his top was getting bored with him - or whether he was getting bored with his top…with John all he could think about was being kissed. John's mouth was always warm and hungry, and his kisses were territorial, claiming, without being overly aggressive. His arms slipped around Rodney's shoulders and pulled him in closer, kissing him deeply, and Rodney gave himself up entirely to the sensation.

Rodney lost track of time as he was kissed more forcefully and comprehensively than he'd ever been kissed in his life, and he really did think he would be quite content to lie here forever, just being kissed by John.

A noise outside startled them, and before Rodney knew what was happening John had pushed him against the wall of the tent.

"Keep still and don't move," he hissed, throwing himself silently towards the entrance to the tent and unzipping it cautiously. His gun seemed to have miraculously appeared in his hand, and he slid out into the grey world outside. Rodney untangled himself from his bedroll and followed him out, just in time to see John wing off a shot into the distance.

"What was that?" Rodney asked, panicked. John turned, an angry look on his face.

"Some kind of wild animal - a cross between a bear and a wolf by the look of it - and I thought I told you to keep still and don't move?"

"You could have been in danger," Rodney replied, his jaw jutting out. "And nobody ever kissed me like that before so I want to make sure you stay alive to kiss me some more."

John's angry expression turned into one of amused exasperation and at that moment Teyla appeared, half-dressed, sticks at the ready.

"I heard gunfire," she said.

"Just a wolf thing - but it's light so we should get moving," John told her. She nodded and disappeared back into the tent.

"You and I really need to talk about this whole 'doing what you're told on missions' thing," John told Rodney, as they returned to their own tent.

"Well, while we're at it we could also talk about your insane fixation with unquestioning obedience," Rodney muttered, feeling a wave of annoyance that had little to do with their current situation and more to do with his growing sense of sexual frustration.

"What is it with you and doing the exact opposite of whatever I tell you to?" John replied as they went back into the tent and started pulling on their boots.

"I'm just saying, if it weren't for you we could be having hot sex. Lots of it," Rodney snapped, hopping around to try and get his feet into his still damp boots. They seemed to have shrunk overnight.

"Ditto," John replied, sitting down and tying up his own bootlaces, only with more finesse.

Rodney stumbled, then fell over John's backpack and landed beside him, gazing up at him miserably.

"Do you think this is just going to come down to which one of us is the most stubborn?" he sighed.

John smiled at him, and ran his thumb over Rodney's lower lip - a gesture that Rodney was starting to become familiar with.

"No, I don't," he said. "This isn't about either of us being stubborn - it's about you learning to trust me, and I think you will, one day - and I'm happy to wait until that happens."

Rodney gazed at him, lost for words. John was so sure of himself - he seemed to think this was so inevitable, and he gave no sign at all that it was remotely likely he'd ever give in. They finished dressing, packed up the tent, and got moving. Rodney followed on behind John, just as he had the previous day, only today it was even worse because he'd just spent a whole night wrapped up in his top's arms and now he wanted more.

They found a ZPM - but it belonged to a group of children who needed it as a defence against the Wraith so they returned home empty-handed, once more. Rodney was unsettled by the whole experience, and on their first night back he lay in his bed, unable to sleep, just remembering how it had felt to be held in John's arms.

He tossed and turned for hours, and then, eventually, gave up and walked furiously down the hallway to John's quarters. He thumped on the door and John opened it, blearily, several seconds later. He was only wearing a pair of boxers, and Rodney paused, all memory of why he was here temporarily vanishing from his brain as he took in the sight of a nearly naked John Sheppard. He'd seen glimpses of John's body before, clad only in a towel, some months previously, but that had been before the man became his top. Now…Rodney licked his suddenly dry lips as his gaze wandered over a lean, washboard stomach, and a slim but tautly muscled upper body, with a fine covering of dark chest hair.

"Is there an emergency?" John's eyes were glinting with amusement, and that was enough to make Rodney tear his gaze away.

"Yes! No! I'm very angry with you!" Rodney said, pushing past him into the room. When he turned, that lazy grin was back on John's face. "I'm your sub. You can't seriously tell me you don't want some sexual favours," he growled.

John gazed at him searchingly. "You know what I want," he said.

"Well, leaving that aside, we could at least be having some kind of sex in the meantime," Rodney told him.

"Just you, me and your list?" John raised an eyebrow. "I don't do threesomes."

"You're an insane control freak!"

"So are you."

"I'm just being safe! You're the one who wants total submission to his every whim!"

"Hello! Top!" John shrugged, grinning.

Rodney gazed at him, helplessly. Then he went over to John, pressed himself against him, and kissed him. John wrapped his hands around Rodney's body and held him tight, returning the kiss hungrily.

"Let me suck you," Rodney whispered throatily when the kiss finished. "Let me show you how good it can be if we do things my way." He started to get down on his knees, only to find that John had a tight grip on his elbows.

"No," John growled.

"Oh come on. You want it." Rodney pushed his hips forward and found John's hard cock poking through his boxer shorts. "You can't deny you want it," Rodney purred, his hand going southwards. John caught it before it got there.

"No," he said again, firmly.

"For god's sake!" Rodney yelled, angry all over again. "You can't be serious. You have to want more than just kissing and cuddling!"

"I do," John agreed. "But I don't just want more - I want everything, and until that's what you're prepared to give me then I'll wait, thank you."

Rodney gazed at him, helplessly. John reached out, and pulled him into an embrace.

"You know, the kissing and cuddling are pretty nice," he murmured into Rodney's ear, his hands gently stroking Rodney's back, soothing him.

"I hate you," Rodney told him, relaxing helplessly into the embrace.

"Yeah. I know." John pressed a kiss to the side of Rodney's face. "Now, if you want to spend the night here, with me just holding you, like I did in the tent, then I will. You only had to come and ask - the ranting and raving weren't necessary."

"What? I…" Rodney drew back. "I did not come here for that!" he snapped, angry and startled at being so easily read. How could John possibly have known?

"Okay then." John pushed him away. "Then we're done. Goodnight, Rodney." He took hold of Rodney's face, kissed his forehead, and then led him firmly to the door and pushed him out into the hallway. "You can keep on lying to yourself, Rodney but don't lie to me," he said, and then he thumped the door control and the door slid shut.

Rodney stayed looking at the shut door for a few minutes, wondering what to do. He thought of John, getting into bed again, and longed to crawl in beside him, and just lie there next to him for the remainder of the night, but in order to do that he'd have to admit that was why he'd come here tonight. Why was it easier to come here and ask for sex than it was to ask for company and closeness, he wondered to himself? Why was it easier for this to be about sex than for it to be about love?

Rodney hunched his shoulders and walked away, disconsolately, back to his room. He got into bed but didn't sleep. He didn't expect to.


	10. Trust

The next few days were no better. Rodney found that even work wasn't the distraction it had once been. Now he couldn't concentrate on anything but thoughts of John. They went on another mission and Rodney relished the time they spent together, just the two of them, bickering away at every opportunity, every slightest accidental touch red hot and electric.

Rodney didn't know how much longer this could continue. He felt like he was burning up and his brain, usually so good at providing him with solutions, was useless in this situation. They met a primitive race called the Genii, who turned out not to be as primitive (or as friendly) as they'd first thought, and John saved their lives with some forward thinking that involved two cloaked puddle jumpers coming to their rescue in the nick of time.

"Hey, you could have let us in on your whole secret rescue plan, Colonel," Ford groused with a grin as they returned home. "I was starting to wonder if I'd have to panic for a moment there."

"Oh I knew the Colonel had something up his sleeve," Rodney said smugly.

"Really?" John raised an eyebrow. "So you're saying you always trust me to save our asses?"

Rodney shrugged. "Well, you do seem to have been making a habit of it lately."

John smiled and shook his head, then he put his hand on Rodney's arm and Rodney felt a familiar surge of electricity at the touch. "So, you trust me with your life but not your heart?" he murmured in Rodney's ear.

Rodney froze, but John just gave him a meaningful look and then strode away. Rodney gazed after him, stricken. John had a point. Rodney *did* trust him to get them out of difficult situations. He wasn't exactly a slouch himself when it came to rescuing their collective asses, but John did it calmly, with much less fanfare, and there was something reassuring about that. Rodney doubted that his own more volatile behaviour reassured the team much, even despite his obvious brilliance, but John always kept his cool and pulled them out of one scrape after another, with a kind of lazy efficiency that belied the effort that was involved. Rodney had started, slowly, and without realising it, to trust that John would take care of them, and that surprised him of and by itself.

Trust. Everything always boiled down to this issue of trust that John kept going on about. Rodney returned to his lab but his mind wasn't on his work. He couldn't get John's words out of his head. If he trusted the man to save his life, why couldn't he trust him to be a safe top? Even as he thought that, Rodney knew that being a safe top wasn't the real issue here. John Sheppard was no Bates - he wasn't pressurising Rodney, or trying to blackmail him into his bed. He was just asking Rodney to let go, and throw himself into something on blind trust alone - and Rodney was hanging on as tightly as he knew how to all the defences he'd built up around himself a very long time ago. If he let John through then he'd have nothing to protect himself with, and John was asking him to trust that he wouldn't need any protection, and that was the hardest thing of all.

"I can't do it," Rodney murmured to himself.

"What cannot be done?" Radek asked, passing by and glancing at Rodney's work screen. "McKay!" he exclaimed, pointing at the screen. There was a shuddering sound and the lights went off in the lab, and, too late, Rodney realised that he wasn't paying attention to the experiment he was running on the city's power supply.

"What have you done? Now we must repair!" Radek was exclaiming.

"It won't take long," Rodney bristled, hating the fact he'd messed up. "I'll just…" he fumbled around in the dark and managed to get the emergency power online.

"You were not concentrating," Radek hissed to him in a low tone. "That is how this happened. You have not been concentrating for days now. It's dangerous."

"Nonsense. Of course I've been concentrating!" Rodney snapped, glancing around the room, wondering just how transparent he'd been if Radek had noticed his behaviour. Radek put a warning hand on his arm.

"No. You have not. Now, your mind is elsewhere, and you must sort this out before you touch the systems again, yes?"

Rodney glared at him. "Oh please. I can do this stuff in my sleep!" he growled.

"Well that is maybe the problem," Radek replied. "You do not look to me as if you have been sleeping very much lately, hmm? You should see Dr Beckett."

"There's nothing wrong with me!" Rodney protested, because the last thing he wanted was Carson poking his nose in and offering him unwanted advice.

"Go and see him, or…or I will tell my Lady Elizabeth that you are not fit to work at the moment," Radek said, flushing as he said that, clearly a little bit scared to be issuing ultimatums to his boss - especially as that boss was Rodney. Rodney gazed at him, aghast. "I mean it," Radek said, more firmly this time. "You are distracted, and next time it could be a more volatile system that you screw up."

"I don't screw up," Rodney said, and at that moment the emergency lighting flickered, belying his protest. Radek raised an eyebrow. Rodney sighed. "Okay. Fine," he muttered. "I'll go and see Carson."

He left the lab, feeling irritated with Radek and angry with himself for letting his personal situation get in the way of his work. This couldn't go on! He was exhausted having this hanging over him the entire time. John, on the other hand, seemed completely at peace with the whole thing. He was wandering around as fresh as a daisy, and seemed happy to just wait until Rodney figured out what to do. The trouble was that Rodney didn't have a clue what to do.

Rodney returned to his quarters. He took a shower, ignoring how his cock kept trying to rise up every time he thought of John. He wasn't going to pander to it - he was trying to *forget* about the whole John situation and he didn't think masturbating to fantasies about the colonel was really going to help him with that.

Afterwards he tried to take a nap, but the minute he closed his eyes his brain started working overtime, and all he could think about was the unresolved situation with his top. Finally he gave up, and, exasperated, he pulled on some clothes and stomped off to the infirmary.

"Carson, give me some sleeping tablets," he ordered imperiously upon his arrival. Carson glanced up, startled.

"You're having trouble sleeping, Rodney?" he queried. Rodney rolled his eyes.

"No, I want the tablets because I have a cold," he said sarcastically. "Yes I'm having trouble sleeping, Carson! Now hand them over." He clicked his fingers, hoping that he could steamroller Carson into giving them to him without asking questions but really, he was insane if he thought that was ever going to happen.

Carson just sat back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. "I don't think so, do you, laddie?" he said. "Now come and sit down and tell me what's going on, and then we'll decide about the tablets."

"Nothing's going on. I just can't sleep," Rodney growled.

"Aye, and last time you couldn't sleep you ended up spinning out of control and the entire base suffered for it - and so did you. So, I repeat, come and sit down over here and tell me what's going on," Carson said firmly. Rodney glared at him.

"God I hate tops," he snapped, and then he turned on his heel and walked out of the infirmary.

He returned to his room, agitated, unable to calm himself down. He felt like he was being boxed into a corner, first by Radek, and then by Carson. Dammit, he was perfectly capable of doing his job! He needed his job! He needed somewhere to be able to escape to in his head - although he had to admit that lately not even his work was providing him with the distraction he needed, as thoughts of John permeated his every waking moment. And in his current state of insomnia that pretty much meant every single second of his life.

Rodney sat down at his table, and gazed at the wall. Things had been so difficult since they'd arrived in the Pegasus Galaxy. He knew they were all worried about him, knew that his track record of late hadn't been exactly great. He was up and down, and all over the place, and he couldn't exactly blame Radek for threatening to speak to Elizabeth. After that series of spectacular public screw ups and resulting punishments they must all be wondering when the next Rodney McKay explosion would come. It was irritating because he'd been feeling so much better of late and had no intention of screwing up again.

Rodney got up, and paced around the room. It was getting late, and it was dark outside. He went over to the window and opened it. He had grown to love the sound of the ocean since arriving here. He stared out into the inky night sky, and recalled the sensation of lying on a warm sandy beach with John Sheppard sitting astride him, his handsome face outlined against the blue sky, the sun shining in his tousled black hair, surrounding him in a halo of light. The light summer breeze had caught and billowed in John's shirt, revealing a portion of hairy chest and stomach. Rodney swallowed convulsively as he remembered how John had held his arms above his head and kissed him, and how that had made his entire body tingle with excitement.

John Sheppard was a good man, everyone said that. True, Rodney could see a glimpse of something dark inside the man, but that seemed to spring from his need to protect and it didn't scare Rodney - in fact it gave the colonel an attractive edge, something that stopped him from being too impossibly perfect. He was smart, handsome, witty, popular…and he was in love with Rodney. He'd said it. Rodney still couldn't wrap his head around *that*. Some part of him wondered if it was a kind of cosmic joke, and yet he couldn't doubt the colonel's sincerity. John Sheppard loved him, for whatever reason, and was Rodney really going to turn down that kind of love just because he was too afraid to trust?

When had anyone ever loved him before, let alone someone like John Sheppard? His love life to date had been a disaster, and he'd developed extremely low expectations as a result. The idea of someone like John Sheppard loving him had just never factored into his thoughts before but was that any reason to be suspicious of the man?

Rodney was trembling as he got up, and walked towards the door. He had never trusted anyone in his life, and he felt as vulnerable as a turtle without its shell, naked and exposed.

He walked slowly down the hallway, and found himself outside John's door. He took a deep breath, knocked, and then waited…but there was no reply. John wasn't there.

Rodney gave a little groan, partly relief and partly disappointment, and rested his head against the door. To his surprise, it started to slide open. Rodney frowned - all the doors were keyed to respond only to their occupant's DNA. He looked inside, but the room seemed to be completely empty.

"John?" He stepped into the room and the door slid silently shut behind him. Rodney gazed around the room but there was no sign of the colonel. The room was neat - the bed made, no clutter, everything tidied away - it was a little different to the mess in his own quarters.

Rodney walked over to the nightstand, and looked at the picture of John's parents again, his fingers trembling as he reached out to touch the glass frame. They looked so happy and in love. John knew that kind of love existed - that's why he believed that he and Rodney could have it too. Rodney had no such belief - this was just another thing that John was asking him to take on trust.

Rodney felt a cold sweat rise to the surface of his skin. Supposing he got this wrong? Supposing he wasn't what John wanted him to be, and it all ended badly?

He found himself walking back over to the door, and he hung there, in the doorway, arms outstretched as he fought his impulse to flee. He stayed there for several minutes, getting himself under control, and then he turned back into the room again.

He wanted this. He wanted to at least try. For all his faults, when Rodney McKay set his mind to something he threw himself into it, heart and soul, and this was no different. He'd give it his best shot, and trust that it would work out. Wasn't that all John was asking of him anyway?

He sat down at the table, and wrapped his arms around his body, trying to calm himself. He was so agitated he felt physically sick, and wondered if he was going to actually throw up. He rocked himself back and forth, trying to hold onto the reasons why he was here.

This was a big deal for him - it wasn't casual, or easy, like sex had so often been. It was bigger than that, and it scared him. He was as freaked out as he'd ever been right now, and that was saying something after his recent experiences with the Wraith.

At that moment the door slid open, and John walked into the room. Rodney's heart did a massive somersault in his chest and he almost passed out from the sensation. John was wearing a pair of black leather pants and a loose black shirt. There were leather wristbands on his arms, that silver thunderbolt earring dangling from his ear, and his hair was as perfectly tousled as ever.

"Rodney." John paused by the door, gazing at him in surprise, and then his expression changed to one of concern as he took in Rodney's condition. "Are you okay?"

"No I'm…I'm sorry. You weren't here, and the door just opened so I came in," Rodney babbled. "I have no idea why it opened. Perhaps I should check the mechanism for you to make sure it isn't broken."

"That's okay. I re-keyed it to let you in," John told him with a shrug. Rodney frowned, confused.

"Why?"

"Because you're my sub, and I want you to be able to come and go as you want," John said patiently.

Rodney started to shake again because now it was all starting to feel too real. John came over to him, and crouched down in front of him.

"It's okay, sweetheart," he said softly, putting his hands on Rodney's knees.

"I'm scared," Rodney admitted, gazing at him. John seemed to know what this was all about because those hazel eyes of his were kind and sympathetic - and sort of relieved too.

"I know." John rubbed his hands gently over Rodney's thighs, calming him. Rodney wasn't sure why John's touch always calmed him down but it did.

"Trust is a big deal for me," Rodney confided, because it was really important to him that John understood that. John smiled.

"I know - that's why I promise you I won't ever abuse that trust," he said softly.

"I came here because there just didn't seem to be anywhere left to go," Rodney said miserably. He felt stupid and weak, and this whole thing seemed really sappy and he wasn't used to that. He had always been supremely matter-of-fact and completely unsentimental about interpersonal relationships but he'd never felt like this before, and it was easy to be cynical when you didn't care.

"That's fine. That's good." John's fingers were soothing on his legs. "You came here, to me - you came home."

Rodney gazed at him, and found that sentiment made an odd sort of sense. Home was a place where you should feel you belonged, and he'd never felt like that growing up in his parents' confusing household. He'd tried to make a home for Jeannie after they'd died but he wasn't sure he'd been very good at it, although he'd genuinely done his best. Then, once she'd left home, he'd led a pretty itinerant lifestyle for several years, travelling all over the place before finally ending up here, in the Pegasus galaxy, which was as far away from home as you could get.

Strange that it should be here, then, that he finally found a place where he felt he belonged. Strange too that home should end up not being a place at all - but a person.

 

~*~

 

John stayed where he was, keeping still, anxious not to startle his skittish scientist, but inside he felt like cheering. Rodney was here! He had been surprised when he first walked through the door to find Rodney sitting at his table, looking like shit. At first, he thought they might be in for a replay of the other night, with Rodney rebellious and angry, still fighting him, but now he saw that the battle for Rodney's heart was over and he had won, and a sensation of relief washed over him.

Rodney had finally trusted him enough to come here and give himself to him, completely and without reservation, and, knowing what a big deal that was for his sub, John felt completely humbled by that trust. He had always known this moment would come, but now that it was here he was unprepared for all the emotions that were coursing through his body.

When he was fourteen, his father, Gil, had sat him down for the dreaded 'chat'. John had come home from school troubled, after he had lost his temper with a kid who had been following him around, pestering him, always trying to engage him in conversation - John didn't realise at the time that the boy had a crush on him.

John was upset because his team had just lost a football game, and he felt he'd played badly and let them down, and the kid was just there, big brown eyes wide with sympathy, chattering away at him, telling him it wasn't his fault. John had found himself angrily brushing off the hand the boy had placed on his arm, and then something had happened, some instinct, and he'd found himself pushing the boy against the wall and kissing him, hard, and it had felt so good to hold him there and kiss him until he stopped wriggling. Then, freaked out by the whole experience, John had released the kid and run home.

Gil had found him sitting in his bedroom, and John had related the whole experience to him, confused and troubled by it. Gil had just smiled that gentle smile of his, and put an arm around him.

"We knew this would happen - we were just waiting to see which way it went. Adam was on standby to deliver the other chat but I think we've both known for awhile that this was the way it would go," Gil told him. "Now, I want you to listen to me, John. You have plenty of time to find out what kind of a top you are, and I'm not going to tell you how to go about that - it's your journey and you'll go at your own pace. I'm only going to say one thing - being a top isn't about throwing your weight around, or hurting or abusing the subs you'll take during the course of your life. It's about taking responsibility for someone, about taking something that's offered freely and treating it like the beautiful gift it is. When it works, it's a feeling like nothing on this earth but if you ever abuse it - if you're mean, or cruel, or capricious, or deliberately hurtful, then you'll get all of that back in return - with interest. One day, I hope you find someone who means as much to you as Adam means to me. I want you to experience what that's like, that sense of the total trust another human being has in you. Everything else will just be a game up to that point - you'll know when it's for real."

Now, crouching here in front of Rodney, John knew what Gil had meant - about all of it. This was it - this was that 'for real' moment he'd been searching for all his life, and he felt as if his entire existence thus far had merely been a prelude to it.

"Hey. It's okay." John leaned forward, and kissed Rodney softly on the mouth. He didn't open Rodney's lips – he just dropped a sweet kiss on them. He could feel Rodney trembling beneath him, but he could also sense Rodney's eagerness, and surrender. He stroked his hands along Rodney's thighs as he kissed him, still crouched between Rodney legs. The kiss seemed to soothe and steady his shivering sub, and Rodney gradually relaxed.

Only then did John finally stand up. He smiled at his sub, and reached out a hand to draw Rodney to his feet. Rodney obeyed him instantly, and John felt a little surge of pleasure deep in his belly. Rodney looked tired and pale, and he was still shaking a little, but John thought he'd never looked more beautiful. Those blue eyes of his were shining; there was an expression of total trust in them, and it was that expression that turned him on more than anything else.

"Come here." John pulled Rodney close, and kissed him again, gently but more forcefully than before. Rodney clung to him, his mouth opening eagerly to accept John's questing tongue. John kissed him harder, and Rodney surrendered to him completely, his body pressed tightly against John's. It was a beautiful, special kiss, a kiss that marked the beginning of something precious and priceless – and something that would last until the day they died. John had absolutely no doubt at all that that was the truth.

John pulled Rodney even closer, kissing him passionately. It was thrilling, exhilarating and sensual but, most of all, it just felt completely and perfectly *right*, as if the universe had just slotted into place around them. Rodney's body felt the perfect weight in his arms, and Rodney was just the right height to kiss properly. John wondered how any other sub had ever managed to satisfy him before, because Rodney seemed so familiar to him, so completely the right shape, and size, and taste, that it was as if he'd been holding him and kissing him for a lifetime. Finally, John drew back, and he brushed his fingers gently over Rodney's cheek.

"I'm going to undress you," he said softly. "Don't move - just let me do it."

Rodney gave a tiny nod, and stood there, still shaking a little. John smiled, loving how Rodney was so responsive. He had always been amused by how every single emotion that Rodney was experiencing was reflected in those expressive eyes of his, and easily readable in his body language, and, as a top about to bed his sub for the first time, he now found that transparency extremely arousing.

Rodney was wearing a plain denim shirt, and John reached out, and undid the top button. He let his fingers linger because he wanted to savour every single moment of this. This was the first time he'd see Rodney naked, the first time he'd take him, and he wanted to etch it on his memory forever. John slid his fingers under the next button, and the next, slowly revealing a new section of bare Rodney flesh with each flick of his hand. Then, finally, the shirt was undone, and John took the edges and slowly peeled them away from Rodney's broad chest. He pushed the fabric back over Rodney's shoulders and down to his wrists and left it there, creating a state of semi-bondage as Rodney's lower arms were still trapped in the garment.

Then John paused and took a moment to enjoy the sight of Rodney's bare chest. It was covered in fine curls of brown hair - not as dark as his own chest hair, but almost as much of it. They were both pretty hairy guys. John gazed at Rodney for a long time, just drinking in the sight of him, and Rodney flushed from his neck all the way up to the roots of his brown hair. He gazed at the ground, sneaking little peaks at John from under his eyelashes in a way that John found incredibly appealing.

John couldn't resist kissing him again, placing a finger under Rodney's chin and drawing up his jaw in order to raise his lips to his. Rodney came willingly, his arms still trapped behind his back, and he surrendered so very sweetly to John's deep, loving kiss. John liked the way Rodney's naked chest felt, pressed against his own body, and he released Rodney, and took a step back, drinking in the sight of him again. He noticed that Rodney's nipples were standing out, hard and proud, and he grinned - he'd often seen those nipples poking through Rodney's tee shirts, and had wanted to press his mouth to them and see if they were as responsive as he suspected they were.

John reached out a lazy finger and stroked Rodney's chest soothingly, and then passed the tip of his finger over Rodney's left nipple, snagging it gently and stroking with his thumb. Rodney's entire body seemed to ripple in response, and John couldn't restrain himself; he moved in fast and took Rodney's right nipple in his mouth. Rodney gasped, and wriggled in his grasp, but his hands were immobilised and he couldn't push John away, even if he'd wanted to.

John held him there and sucked down gently, loving the mewling sounds that were emanating from Rodney's throat. Then, finally, John released the nipple and stood back. Rodney was just standing there, eyes closed, lips slightly parted, moaning softly. John felt his cock harden unbearably inside its leather prison. He'd never seen a more arousing sight in his life. As he watched, Rodney's eyes fluttered open, and he flushed again, clearly torn between arousal and embarrassment by all John's scrutiny. John grinned and ran a fingertip over the nipple he'd just sucked, loving the way Rodney responded with another of those enticing little ripples.

"These are sensitive," John said, aware that his voice was husky with arousal.

"God yes," Rodney murmured.

"Good," John said, with what he suspected was a feral grin. "I'll enjoy torturing them a little then. Every so often I'll tie you to the bed and play with them for hours on end, until you're begging me to stop, and hoping the whole time that I don't." Rodney gave an incoherent little moan at that, so John thought he liked the sound of it.

John reached out and grabbed Rodney's belt, anxious to continue his exploration of his sub's body. He unfastened the belt, and then bent down and undid Rodney's shoes. Rodney just stood there, allowing John to undress him, and he obediently lifted his legs when ordered so that John could remove his shoes and socks, and then slide his pants down his legs.

Soon Rodney was naked, except for the shirt that was tangled around his wrists. John took a step back and gazed, appreciatively, at Rodney's cock. It wasn't the biggest cock he'd seen, or the widest, but it was, without doubt, the most beautiful. It was smooth and perfectly curved, nestled in a bed of fine curls, and it pulsed and became semi-erect under his scrutiny. John grinned.

"How long can you hold it?" he asked. Rodney swallowed down hard.

"For as long as I'm ordered," he replied, his eyes alight with his eagerness to show John that he wanted to surrender to him, to do whatever his top asked of him, however hard.

"Beautiful. Then hold it until I say," John told him. Rodney nodded, looking a little bit flushed by the praise. John reached out and took that firm, perfect cock in his hand, and Rodney moaned and bucked up against him. "This is mine now," John whispered to him, just holding Rodney's cock in his hand.

Rodney rested his chin on John's shoulder and nuzzled there. "I need you to understand this," John said, the tone in his voice taking him by surprise. Rodney's hazy, aroused eyes widened, and he looked startled. "It's mine. Nobody gets to touch you here except me."

Rodney gave a little smile. "I knew you were the jealous type. When we were practising that day, and you had Lorne put me in a neck lock…."

"I wanted to beat him off you with a stick," John agreed, still a little surprised by the reactions that memory evoked in him. He'd never been the jealous type before Rodney. "I need you to understand this though, Rodney. I need that. The thought of anyone else touching you, or sucking you, or making love to you, makes me…." John felt a tide of rage sweep through him and his hand tightened around Rodney's cock, making his sub take a sharp intake of breath.

"It's okay. I understand," Rodney said soothingly. "I promise that nobody else will touch me there except you."

"Good." John felt himself relaxing and the tension died away. He pressed a gentle kiss to Rodney's mouth. Then he released his sub's cock and took another step back. "Turn around, Rodney. Let me see that magnificent ass," he ordered. Rodney took a deep breath and then turned, and John stepped forward and removed the shirt from around his wrists and threw it on the nearby chair, and then he stepped back again, and just looked.

He'd seen it before, back in the punishment room, but it hadn't been his then. Now it was. Now it was his, and he could touch it and kiss it the way he'd wanted to back then. Rodney's ass was undeniably beautiful – John had had a thing about it from the moment he first set eyes on Rodney, and now…now he finally got to claim his prize.

John got down on his knees and then, slowly and reverently, touched his lips to the smooth flesh. It felt divine under his lips - the flesh was soft and curving, the skin a beautiful creamy white. It was plump, but not fat, perfectly round and peachy and biteable. John drew back and pressed his hand onto one buttock, fascinated, wondering what it would be like to lightly and erotically spank this ass, and see the globes of flesh wobble beneath his fingers. He gave a groan of arousal at that thought, and pressed his mouth to Rodney's buttocks once more, and trailed his lips over all that soft, creamy flesh. He kissed it, and then licked it, loving how it tasted and felt under his tongue.

Rodney was shivering now, surrendering beautifully to him, and John decided to test him a little, and see if that trust was as complete as he thought it was.

"I'm going to mark you," he said, his voice throaty. Rodney glanced at him over his shoulder, his eyes wide. "I need to mark you. This ass is mine. This body is mine. I'm claiming you for my own, Rodney. I want to see my marks on you."

Rodney gave a hazy smile, making it clear that he was happy to accept whatever marks John wanted to put on his body. John smiled back, and then cupped those luscious buttocks in his hands, trying to decide which one of them to mark. In the end he went for the right one, squeezing it in his hand first, and then leaning in to press his mouth against it. Rodney quivered slightly as John licked the skin, and then sank his teeth gently into the soft, ripe flesh. It felt so good under his teeth, so perfectly round and tender, and John deepened the bite, wanting to leave his mark. He went slowly – his aim was not to hurt Rodney, although he guessed it would cause a little discomfort, but no, what he wanted was to imprint a little piece of himself on Rodney's skin.

Rodney gave a hiss, and rocked forward slightly on his toes, but apart from that he didn't move. John wrapped an arm around Rodney's thighs and pulled him closer to steady him, and then he bit down with more force. Rodney gave a little holler of pain which John ignored. He loved the way Rodney was wriggling in his grasp - trying to escape and yet also trying to do as his top had asked, and accept his bite mark onto his body. He loved the gasps and moans that Rodney was making, and the sensation of the cool flesh warming up under his warm mouth, the skin puckering between his lips into a fleshy lump. Most of all he liked the feeling of closeness and claiming - there was just him and Rodney, and this special moment when he first put his mark on his sub, and that made John want the moment to last for a very long time. Finally, regretfully, he released Rodney and rocked back to admire his handiwork. Rodney glanced over his shoulder again, and gave a ridiculously pleased little smile.

"That's perfect," he whispered, and John smiled and touched the mark with his fingertip, because it was. It was a beautiful red mark, and it looked just right set against all that pale skin. When he'd finished touching it, Rodney reached out a hand to rub it, and John felt a thrill of recognition at the look in his sub's eyes. Rodney was one of those subs who loved to be marked. He knew that this mark would give Rodney pleasure throughout the coming days, and that when Rodney was working in his lab his hand would wander to the mark and linger there briefly, and that would make Rodney smile.

For now though, John flicked Rodney's hand away. "When we're alone together, like this, I don't want you to touch yourself unless I tell you to," he said. Rodney frowned down at him, a puzzled look in his eyes. "Your body is mine," John explained. "I want to be the only one touching it - I want to know it's all for me."

Rodney looked a little startled by that but he nodded anyway. "I'll try and remember," he murmured.

"Forget and I might punish you," John said, a provocative grin curling the corners of his mouth. Rodney's eyes flashed, and John could see the excitement in them. "I'll want to spank you anyway, punishment or not. This beautiful ass was made to be spanked," John told him, and Rodney sighed, and wriggled his ass just a little in response. "Are you teasing me?" John got up and in one powerful move grabbed Rodney, turned him, and pulled him close.

Now Rodney's naked body was pressed against John's fully clothed one, Rodney's erect cock nestled between them, hard and pulsing. "I think you are teasing me," John whispered into Rodney's neck, his hands sliding down Rodney's naked back to rest on his equally naked bottom. "You should be careful…I'll have to punish you now," John told him and the way Rodney melted against him made it clear that his sub wasn't exactly displeased by that idea. "When I've spanked you I'm going to fuck you," John whispered into Rodney's ear. Rodney stiffened, and John held him tight. He knew that Rodney had a problem with anal penetration but he'd thought about that, and he had an idea.

"Sssh," John soothed, his hands making circles on Rodney's solid back. "It's okay…I want to make love to you, Rodney. I want to enter this beautiful ass, and come inside you. I have to do that, and you have to let me in. I promise I'll make it good if you just trust me. Do you trust me?"

Rodney had started to shake again, and John stroked him firmly - he was surprised by the effect that physical contact had on Rodney. The scientist always seemed to calm down when he stroked him - it was worth knowing. John loved that Rodney wasn't hiding his responses - there were no masks in here, tonight. Rodney had let down his guard, and wasn't afraid to show John his fears, and John was going to take those fears seriously, and show Rodney they were groundless. Rodney gradually relaxed under his touch, and then he turned his head and nodded.

"Okay," he whispered. "I do trust you. Do whatever you want to me - I'm yours." It was so simply said, but it pressed every toppy button John possessed, and he claimed Rodney's mouth with another fierce kiss.

Rodney's lips were surprisingly soft, and John loved the way he offered himself up to his caresses, with complete abandon, his entire body nestling in close to John's, utterly relaxed and compliant. John kissed him for a long time, and then released him - but only in order to take his hand, and draw him over to the bed.

He'd spanked Rodney once before, but that had meant business. This would be entirely for their mutual pleasure and John much preferred delivering that kind of spanking.

He sat on the bed, arranged a pillow on his knee, and then drew Rodney down onto it and made him comfortable. Rodney started shaking again, just a little, and John could feel the shadow of that last spanking, hanging between them. Rodney had told him then that John had broken him, and John wanted this spanking to wipe that slate clean. He knew that this was an incredibly vulnerable position to be in, lying naked, upturned and exposed on someone's lap, your ass offered up to them, with no safe word, just a fledgling bond of trust between you that could so easily be broken. John had no intention of breaking that trust. This would be a spanking that Rodney would enjoy.

John smoothed his hand over Rodney's ass, and Rodney jumped just a little at the touch. John calmed him, whispering to him softly, telling him what a great ass he had, and Rodney started to relax again. John didn't mind going at a slow pace - he loved having the opportunity to caress Rodney's ass. In fact, he seriously doubted he'd ever be able to get enough of this ass.

He caressed the firm globes of flesh for a long time, until Rodney was completely relaxed and moaning softly, and then he delivered a little tap to one of them. Rodney's butt rose eagerly to meet the next spank and John grinned, catching a glimpse of Rodney's hard cock and noticing how Rodney was grinding his hips into the pillow when he went back down. John placed a hand on Rodney's lower back to keep him in position, and then started to rain down some slow, lazy, spanks on Rodney's plump bottom. They were just hard enough to sting, and just light enough to arouse, and John took his time, savouring Rodney's exuberant reactions.

"Remember you have to hold that erection," John warned, as Rodney's thrusts against the pillow picked up pace. Rodney groaned, and looked back hopefully over his shoulder.

"Please let me come now," he asked, a playful glint in those blue eyes of his, but John just laughed, and shook his head.

"No. You'll come after I've come and not before, and that's the way it's always going to be," he said firmly. Rodney's eyes widened, aroused by that comment. "And I intend to come inside this nice warm ass," John told him, "and you'll come with me inside you too." The expression in Rodney's eyes immediately became a little panicked by that.

"Talk to me, Rodney," John said, and Rodney bit on his lip and shrugged.

"Nothing," he muttered. John stopped spanking him, and started stroking his bottom again.

"No, you need to tell me what's going on with you," he said firmly.

"It's just…I really doubt I'll be able to come if you're inside me," Rodney said, looking a little defiant, but upset at the same time. "I won't be able to keep an erection, either. I never have. I'm happy for you to come inside me if that's what you want, John, but…I'm going to disappoint you if you expect me to keep hard while you do it."

John smiled at him. It was actually rather endearing that Rodney was more worried that he was going to disappoint John by not being able to hold his erection, than that the reason for that was because he was anticipating being in some pain and discomfort.   
"I told you to trust me. So don't worry about it," John told him. "You will come with me inside you. I promise. Now just let go, and allow me to make it happen." Rodney gazed up at him, the internal struggle showing clearly in his eyes, and then something happened, and his eyes cleared, and he nodded.

"Okay. I'll try," he whispered.

John grinned at him. He had no doubts on the subject at all, and he turned back to Rodney's prettily glowing ass and started spanking him in earnest now. He knew that Rodney had a tendency to over-think things, and right now he needed to be distracted from his worries - and a good, firm spanking seemed the perfect way to achieve that.

After awhile Rodney's ass was glowing like a beacon, red and inviting. Rodney was moaning and squealing with every spank, and although he kept in position he wriggled all over the place. John smiled to himself. They'd have to work on the wriggling because he expected his subs to stay in place and take what he handed out, but he loved how Rodney couldn't keep anything in. He'd spanked some subs who submitted stoically to it, never uttering a word, but Rodney wasn't one of them and John found that very rewarding.

Rodney yelled and hollered and begged John to stop, but not in such a way that John thought he wanted that to actually happen. And, when he did finally bring the spanking to a close, he thought he detected a little flash of disappointment in Rodney's eyes. He gently dislodged Rodney from his lap, and arranged him on the bed, in the position he wanted him. He slipped his hand between Rodney's legs and opened them wide, allowing his fingers to gently brush Rodney's asshole as he did so. Rodney shivered.

"Okay, I want you to lie there, legs open wide like that - in the position I just put you in, and think about your ass, and how warm and inviting it is for me right now," John told him, sliding off from the bed. Rodney gazed at him, wide-eyed. "Just think about your asshole," John told him, undoing his leather cuffs and placing them on the nightstand. "Think about how open it is right now, and how you want to offer it up to me, so I can take you. Think about how good it'll feel to serve me with that hole, to take me into you, and let me claim you."

Rodney swallowed hard and nodded, but John noticed that he'd started to tremble again. John stripped off his clothes slowly, trying to re-focus Rodney's attention on him, and Rodney gradually calmed down a little, his eyes transfixed as John slid off his leather pants, and finally released his hard, jutting cock.

John knew his own cock wasn't what anyone would call pretty. It was thick, and blunt, and right now it was dark with need. Rodney seemed fairly impressed by it though, because he made a low, moaning sound in the back of his throat.

"Oh you'll get to touch," John told him, with a grin, "but not just yet." He got back onto the bed, completely naked, and took Rodney into his arms.

"I thought you were going to…uh…" Rodney nodded with his head in the direction of his ass.

"I am," John told him. "In awhile. Stop second-guessing me, Rodney. Just accept."

Rodney bit on his lip, and that was such an enticing sight that John couldn't resist leaning in and capturing the abused lip with his own. He loved the feeling of nakedness, of his own skin being pressed against Rodney's, and he knew it was exciting Rodney too, because he pressed up close and his hands wandered down John's back and came to rest on his ass. John grinned; fair was fair - he'd had a good feel of Rodney's ass so there was no reason why Rodney shouldn't get his share too.

John kissed Rodney for a long time, without hurrying, just enjoying the sensation of their two bodies, entwined. This whole experience was a sensory delight for him; he was getting to smell Rodney's scent, and touch Rodney's flesh, and see Rodney in all his naked glory and it made him tingle all over. John started to kiss lower, moving down to lick along Rodney's collarbone, and then lower still to take a nipple in his mouth and suck down hard. Rodney wriggled, and John drew back.

"I'm your top, Rodney, let me play," he ordered. Rodney nodded, and scrunched up his face as John went back in again. John couldn't help himself - it was so delicious to be able to torment Rodney like this, and his sub's reactions were so blissful and abandoned that he couldn't resist teasing him relentlessly, nibbling and sucking and licking the sensitive nipples without mercy. Rodney rocked helplessly and happily in his arms, and John loved how easy it was to bring him to the brink of ecstasy just by playing with his nipples. He took Rodney right to the edge, and then drew back, and reached for the lube in his nightstand drawer. He watched Rodney closely the entire time, and saw Rodney react again, his body stiffening.

"Ssh," John said, stroking him. "You trust me, remember?" Rodney nodded, his blue eyes still anxious, and John slathered lube on his hard cock, and then pushed Rodney's legs apart and settled between them. Rodney's erection had faded, just as he'd said it would, and John sighed - Rodney *did* trust him, but he knew his sub was offering himself up to what he was sure would be an ordeal, rather than expecting it to actually be pleasurable.

John changed his position, and dipped his head down and gently flicked his tongue over Rodney's asshole. Rodney gave a yelp of pure pleasure, his legs quivering slightly as John pushed his tongue in as far as it would go, making his sub sigh. John loved being so close to Rodney, loved dipping his tongue deep inside his sub, exploring him in this most secret place. He loved the intoxicating, musky scent and he lost himself in it for a long while, drinking in the pleasure of being so deeply intimate with his submissive. Rodney clearly loved being rimmed, and he whimpered with abandoned pleasure, surrendering himself completely to John's insistent tongue.

John rimmed Rodney until his sub was relaxed again, and then he drew back, and reached for the lube once more. He lubed his finger and slid the cool gel into Rodney's hole. Rodney immediately tensed, and John slid the finger back and forth for awhile to get him used to the sensation. He knew Rodney was trying, knew also that the reaction was involuntary - that Rodney's experiences in the past had left him with entirely negative associations about penetration. John inserted another finger but Rodney was too tight, clenching himself against the intrusion, and John knew that it was time to try out his plan.

He rolled down beside Rodney, and took his sub in his arms so that he was facing away from him, his buttocks pressed against John's straining cock. John longed to pull apart Rodney's butt cheeks and bury himself inside, but he also knew that wouldn't work and Rodney would freeze up if he tried it. Instead, he gently opened Rodney's buttocks and pressed the tip of his cock against Rodney's tight hole. Rodney tensed in his arms, clearly imagining John was going to enter him, but John didn't do more than tease the puckered opening with just the tip of his cock. He pressed it in, then pulled back, and then repeated the motion. Rodney started to relax, and John risked pressing in a little more. The ring of muscle was still tight, and he didn't even try to breach it, just pulled back and pressed in over and over again.

"You're so beautiful," John murmured to Rodney, his hands wandering over Rodney's body, and coming to rest on his flaccid cock. "God you're hot. You make me so hard…." He pressed a series of little kisses against the back of Rodney's neck, and was gratified when Rodney loosened up a bit, his shoulders starting to feel less tense. "Turn over for me - onto your hands and knees," John ordered, and Rodney stiffened again, obviously imagining that the foreplay was over, and that this time John *would* take him. Still, he did as he was told without demur, although John noticed that the trembling was back.

John took a moment to savour the sight of a naked Rodney, on his hands and knees on the bed, his warm ass glowing, and a perfect red bite mark standing out proud on his right buttock. It was such a good sight, such an incredibly arousing sight, that John allowed himself a moment to just look. Rodney was *his*. No matter how many times he told himself that, he still felt a tingle of amazed pleasure.

Rodney was his naked, obedient sub, lying on his bed and doing whatever John ordered him to do, and John felt as if he'd finally come into his own as a top. There had always been an element where he'd been playing at it before - doing it well, but never really *feeling* it, in his heart, but now he could feel it in every nerve-ending in his body, in every fibre of his being, and it was *Rodney* who was making him feel like this. Rodney was the perfect sub to bring out his inner top, to make him into the top he'd always had the potential to be, and with Rodney it felt like sex was more than just bodies - it was so much more than that.

He felt connected to Rodney on every level, and he thought Rodney felt it too, judging by the way he was looking up at John over his shoulder, those blue eyes of his open and unguarded, allowing John to see everything he was. He was giving himself to John to take and make his, offering himself up willingly, without reservation. Gil had told him it would feel like this when he found the right person, and John understood something now of what a gift it was when a sub truly gave himself to you for the taking, the way Rodney was now. The power exchange between them was electric, rendering every touch full of shocks and sparks.

John opened Rodney's legs with his hand and lubed his cock again, and then he pressed it against Rodney's tight asshole once more. Rodney moaned, and John could see by the strain in his muscles that he was *trying* to open up. John planted a trail of kisses all the way down his spine, and Rodney was whimpering now, his body shaking.

"You want to take me," John whispered, stroking Rodney's haunches with his fingertips. "You want it so bad. You want to feel me move inside you, want me to claim you, and make love to you."

Rodney pressed back against him but still John didn't surge forwards. He tested the opening again, and found it looser, but Rodney still wasn't relaxed enough to take him. John contented himself with kissing Rodney's back, and taking his cock in his palm and rubbing it to its former erect state. Then he turned Rodney onto his back and settled between his legs once more. He took Rodney's balls in his hand and played with them, loving the mewling sounds Rodney made when he caressed them.

"Keep moaning for me," John told him. "That sounds so good." Rodney gazed up at him, looking stunned by the whole experience. "I love you, Rodney," John told him sincerely, and then he leaned down and kissed Rodney again, trapping his hard cock between their bodies, his own cock rigid with need. Yet still he had to control himself. He had to do this right.

John nuzzled against Rodney's neck, and kissed his way down Rodney's jaw, and Rodney reached up and touched John's face, an expression of utter wonderment in his eyes. John went lower, pressing gentle, tender kisses wherever he went, and then he settled back and slipped the tip of his cock into Rodney's opening again. Rodney seemed more relaxed now, and he opened his legs wide to accommodate John. Still John didn't make his move. He just kept dipping his cock in and then pulling back, never completely breaching the ring of muscle, or pushing all the way in. Rodney was starting to moan more loudly now, his entire body relaxed and abandoned.

"Want you in me," he whispered, and then he looked up, startled, as if he was surprised he'd said that. John smiled, and brushed his sub's sweaty curls away from his forehead.

"Not yet…when you're ready…not yet."

He kept on pressing his cock into Rodney's opening until Rodney was so used to the sensation he wasn't expecting anything more, and he was completely relaxed with what John was doing…and then, unexpectedly, John pushed his cock in - and kept going. Rodney eyes widened in surprise, but by now John had slid through the tight ring of muscle, and he kept his cock there, while he waited for Rodney's body to adjust to the intrusion. "It's okay, ssh, just take it," John whispered.

Rodney's blue eyes remained fixed on his, and John smiled down, tenderly. Oh god! He was taking Rodney, claiming him with his cock for the first time, and it felt so good! Rodney's asshole was tight around his cock, and John wanted more. He wanted to surge forwards and finally make Rodney completely his, but still he waited, rocking a little to loosen the hole. He noticed when Rodney's body relaxed again, and this time he pushed in the whole way, sliding in deep, up to the root, and ending up with his body on top of Rodney's, his arms braced on either side of Rodney's chest. Rodney's face was close, his eyes a little frantic, and John caught his lips in his own, soothing him.

"Okay?" he whispered, in between little nuzzling kisses. "Feel okay?"

"Feels…big, stretched…but it doesn't hurt...took me by surprise," Rodney whimpered.

"That was kind of the point," John replied, kissing him again, a little whisper of a kiss. "Getting used to it?"

"Mmmm," Rodney replied, his legs coming up to wrap themselves around John's body.

"Good…because I'm going to move now." John eased his hips back and heard Rodney's gasp as his cock nearly left his body - and then he pushed back in again, surging forward with a firm thrust. Rodney gave a sigh of release - as if he'd just been holding his breath for a very long time.

"Oh god…that feels…oh shit…" he whispered. "It's never felt like this before. It doesn't hurt!"

John smiled, and kissed him again, because Rodney looked so adorable right now, naked and unguarded and so completely submissive beneath him. "That's good," he replied, "because this is pretty much where I want to spend the rest of my life so you should get used to it."

Rodney grinned up at him, and then, for the first time that evening, John heard a sound that made his heart flip. Rodney giggled. He giggled, and his hair bounced around his neck, and he looked so happy that John just gazed at him, drinking in the sight.

"I want this moment to last forever," John sighed. "Me, inside you, you - looking like you do right now."

He closed his eyes to capture the image in his memory, savouring the feel of Rodney's warm, tight flesh around his cock, milking him, and the touch of Rodney's relaxed body under his arms, and the sound of Rodney's gurgling laughter ringing in his ears. Then he opened his eyes again, and looked down on his beautiful, compliant sub.

"I love you," he whispered. "God, I love you so much." And he moved his hips for another smooth thrust, and then another. Rodney's eyes were wide as they gazed up at him, full of surprised pleasure at each powerful thrust. John grinned, and then reached between their bodies and found Rodney's cock. It was already semi-erect and soon sprang fully into life as John slid his hand along it. Rodney's eyes were laughing now, as he realised just how much he was enjoying this. His entire body was convulsing around John's cock, and John honestly did think this was the best night of his entire life.

Time seemed to slow down, and there was just the two of them and all this exquisite pleasure. Every hungry thrust made his body hum with delight, and he could tell by the expression on Rodney's face that it was the same for him. John held off his orgasm for as long as he could, wanting to stay here, inside Rodney's body, for as long as humanly possible, but finally his self-control cracked, and he began to speed up, thrusting harder, claiming Rodney for his own with each inward thrust, claiming him body and soul.

The pleasure built to crescendo, and then his brain was flooded in white light and he could feel himself coming, deep within his sub's willing body. He shouted out his orgasm, his semen spurting out of him and into Rodney, in warm, ecstatic bursts. He rubbed his hand harder along Rodney's cock as he came, and he was dimly aware of telling Rodney that he was allowed to come too, whenever he liked, and next thing he knew Rodney was making an amazing growling sound in the back of his throat and then he was coming all over John's hand, and over his own belly. Finally the waves of pleasure slowed, and John collapsed, exhausted, onto Rodney.

He lay there for a long time, aware of Rodney's fingers stroking his hair, and of how his cock was now soft inside Rodney's warm body. Finally, with a groan, he slid gently out of Rodney, aware, from the slight hissing noise Rodney made, that the movement pained his sub a little.

He threw himself down beside Rodney and reached for him, pulling him into his arms. Rodney came, willingly, and nuzzled at John's neck, seeking kisses that John was only too happy to provide. They kissed slowly, lazily, all the sexual urgency gone, and John reached down to cup one of Rodney's plump ass cheeks in his hand.

"I told you I'd make it good," John told his sub. Rodney gave him a weary, happy, post-coital smile.

"And I trusted that you would," he said sleepily. John laughed, and hugged him close, delighted that his sub was finally wrapped up in his arms, where he belonged, naked, and sated and happy.

"Thank you for that." John kissed his forehead.

"No choice in the end," Rodney muttered. "You're a hard man to resist, John Sheppard."

"And you're an easy man to love, Rodney McKay."

Rodney's sleepy eyes widened just a little at that, as if he really doubted that was the case, and John sighed, and kissed him again, determined that he'd get his sub to accept that, in time.

John watched as Rodney fell asleep in his arms. John was still too hyped up to sleep himself, and he lay there for a long time, drinking in the sight of his beautiful sub, lying naked and abandoned in his bed. Every now and then he pressed a little kiss to Rodney's cheek or forehead, or combed his fingers gently through his sub's wavy hair.

It meant something that Rodney was here, that Rodney had come to him and surrendered to him, that he trusted him. It was that trust that touched his heart, and he glanced at the picture of his smiling fathers on his nightstand, and remembered again what Gil had said to him all those years ago.

There were many, many things John wanted to do to Rodney, many ways he wanted to explore his sub's body, but tonight's love-making had been perfect for their first time. They had time - the rest of their lives - to do more. For now, he was just happy to lie here and watch Rodney sleep. God knows the poor guy needed it. He'd looked shattered when John had found him here earlier, but now, sleeping like a baby in John's arms, he finally looked at peace.

It was late when John woke. He came to immediately, reaching for Rodney, only to find that the bed was empty. He glanced around, worried, and then saw Rodney standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, looking out at the sunrise, watching the first golden beams of light striking the sea beneath them.

John's breath caught in his throat because Rodney looked perfect standing there like that. He was completely naked, his white skin lit by the rosy rays of the sun. His cock was hanging loose and free and John gazed at it hungrily, aching for them to be in physical contact again, wanting to touch his sub, to hold him and make love to him.

He was about to call Rodney over to the bed when something in his lover's expression stopped him. Rodney looked…kind of lost. He was resting his head on one arm, just gazing out over the water, and he seemed troubled, lost in thought. It was rare to see Rodney standing still in one place for long, not speaking or moving restlessly around, and John felt a little knot of anxiety form in his belly.

John got up, silently, and padded across the room. He slid an arm around Rodney's body and pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. Rodney shifted slightly, and his hand came up and covered the one that John had around his waist.

"Is everything okay?" John asked, anxiously, kissing Rodney's ear.

"I don't know," Rodney replied, still gazing out at the sea. "I just woke up and I feel…I've never felt like this before. I have no idea how to handle it." Then he turned his head, and his blue eyes were suddenly very close. "My god, John, what have you done to me?" he asked, his voice breaking slightly as he spoke.

John smiled, and tightened his arms around Rodney's naked body, no longer worried. He knew the answer to this one. "I made you mine," he said softly. Rodney turned in his arms and curled his fingers through John's hair, smoothing it as he went.

"Yes," he whispered, in a surprised tone, as he finally figured that one out. "Yes, I guess you did."

 

~*~


	11. The Truly Spectacular Blowjob

John pulled Rodney back to the bed and Rodney went, still feeling bemused. Usually after sex he couldn't wait to get away, back to his own life, out of the restrictive circle of a top's arms. He'd got up to use the bathroom, thinking that maybe he'd follow that old pattern, and slip away back to his room for some time alone, but somehow his feet hadn't taken him away, and had paused instead by the window. He'd stood there for a long time, looking out, wondering why he wasn't moving, but he didn't have an answer – until John had woken up and given him one.

Now John wrapped his arms around him, and Rodney rested his head on John's shoulder. It felt good. Nice. Rodney relaxed into the embrace. So what if this was different? It felt good so why fight it? He sneaked a peek at John, to find his top dozing.

Rodney shifted slightly onto his side, so he could get a good view of him. John's hair was a tousled mess, standing out in dark relief against the white pillow. When he was sleeping he looked like a loose-limbed teenager, but Rodney was already sure that taking John at face value was a mistake you made at your own peril.

Rodney tried to make some sense of the enigma that was his new top. Mostly, John was laidback and easygoing, always ready with the casual charm and the goofy grin – but that wasn't how he was in the field, and it sure as hell wasn't how he had been last night. Rodney traced a finger over one of John's hands, where it rested on his waist. These hands could kill with deceptive ease, and could just as easily roam over a sub's body with total confidence, demanding and commanding obedience and respect.

Rodney had to admit to himself that John was fascinating. Smarter than he let anyone see, and far more passionate than he let anyone know. Rodney had never met a top who fascinated him before, and it startled him.

Rodney reached his hand down to touch his own ass, and found the puckered bite mark that John had placed on him. It thrilled him in a way he'd never experienced before, to be marked like this. John's mark. On his skin. Pressed into his flesh…he had no idea why that should be so exciting but it was.

Last night he had been lost in a haze of desire and pleasure. He had offered himself up, panting and hungry, to this man, had allowed him into his body, and he still didn't know why because he'd sworn to himself he'd never let that happen again. But…it had been exquisite. Breath-taking. An experience he'd treasure for the rest of his life.

His ass still burned from the way John had slowly, with infinite care and patience, breached his last defences, gentling him until he was relaxed enough to let it happen. And now…Rodney studied his top's sleeping face, wondering what happened next. John had said he was his – and Rodney couldn't deny that some part of him was thrilled to hear it – but what did that mean, and how the hell could it possibly work?

The sun was warming the room, filtering lazily through the blinds, and John shifted and opened his eyes.

"We should get up soon," Rodney said, reluctantly, shifting in his top's arms.

"Nope," John replied, pulling him firmly back into place. "We're not going to work today. I'll radio Elizabeth and let her know."

"What?" Rodney raised his head, and gazed at John questioningly. His lover grinned at him.

"Don't look at me like that!" John protested. "There is no way – *no way* – that I am going to let you out of my sight today, Rodney. Last night was just the beginning – and there's still a hell of a lot more exploring I want to do."

His hands slid appreciatively over Rodney's naked body, making it clear what kind of exploring he had in mind. Rodney found himself giggling, and the sound astonished him. He couldn't remember when he'd last giggled before John. Not since he was a kid he suspected, and he had no idea why he'd started again now.

"What are you going to tell Elizabeth?" he asked, surprised to find that he didn't mind in the least not being able to go to his beloved lab today.

"Just that we're taking a personal day. We've both worked our asses off these past few months and we're due a break." John traced his hands over Rodney's wrists, holding them fast, crossed over his chest. "Or maybe I should tell her that you're all tied up," he purred in Rodney's ear. Rodney giggled again. "Would you like that, Rodney? To be tied up, and at my mercy?" John asked, in a voice that was such a serious turn on that Rodney's cock hardened at the sound of it.

"Mmm," was all he was able to reply, reddening slightly at the thought. Rodney had never been entirely comfortable with being a submissive. His brief but ill-judged attempts at topping when he was younger had been a total failure, and he had no wish to take that role again. He knew, deep down, that he identified as a sub, but his personality was too irascible and his intellect too powerful for him to find it easy submitting to anyone. He'd run rings around some of his former tops, and had never really done more than paid lip service to his own submission. They'd mostly been too stupid to notice, and that had suited him fine.

Rodney shifted uneasily in his new top's arms. Somehow, he didn't think that John would be so easily fooled, and he knew himself well enough to know it was unlikely he'd be able to change – so this whole thing was doomed to failure. He wouldn't be able to help himself – at some point he'd screw it up, the way he always did. He didn't understand people – never had. He couldn't read them, and he usually said or did the wrong thing once too often. His previous tops had either tried to change him or bully him into submission, and he was too strong willed for either tactic to work.

So all he could do was enjoy this, whatever this was, while it lasted - before it all went horribly, tragically wrong, and John realised what a huge mistake he'd made.

"Good, because I like the thought of tying you up, keeping you still, making you take whatever I want to do to you," John murmured in his ear and Rodney felt a wave of pleasure cascade through his body just at the thought of it. No matter how much he struggled with his own submission, his body always seemed to know exactly what he wanted. "Go and get in the shower," John ordered. "I'll call Elizabeth and then join you."

Rodney slipped obediently out of the bed, and was then pulled back for another long, lingering kiss from his top, before being sent on his way again with a firm spank on his ass. Even this was strange. Usually he tried hard to be a good sub during sex, but afterwards it was as if a switch had been flicked, and he was back to his usual difficult self. Last night hadn't been like that though. He hadn't been acting the role of good sub – he'd been too overwhelmed to act out any kind of role at all last night. He'd just thrown himself on John's mercy, submitting to every last thing his top wanted of him.

He hadn't tried any of the usual submissive tricks. No sycophantic kneeling and making doe eyes, no calling John 'my lord', or 'master', no over-eager attempts to please. He'd just been himself, startled, insecure, without even the usual veneer of arrogance and bluster, and now he felt naked and exposed in more ways than just the obvious.

Rodney got under the warm shower water and rested his head against the cool tiles, still feeling lost. "Mine", John had said, and Rodney had never wanted to be owned by anyone before – he felt claustrophobic at the very thought of it - but when John said it…when John said it, it felt good, like being wrapped in a warm blanket, safe and happy.

He was pulled out of his reverie by a hand on his shoulder as John joined him under the water.

"You're thinking too much. I can tell," John said, lifting Rodney's chin.

Rodney found himself gazing into searching hazel eyes. John's hair was wet through, and shone an inky black colour against his golden skin.

"Ssh," John said, and then his warm, wet mouth was descending on Rodney's, and Rodney surrendered to the kiss, unable, in all honesty, to do anything else. His body seemed to have a mind of its own, and betrayed him at every turn.

He moaned, pressing up close to John's naked body, and was gratified to find that his top was hard again. John kissed him thoroughly and then released him but only to grab the soap and begin rubbing it into a lather on Rodney's skin.

Rodney just stood there, allowing his top to wash him, still trying to get his head around all this. He felt dazed and confused, and there was something comforting about the way John's long, elegant fingers were sliding over his naked flesh, soothing him. John's hazel eyes were intent as he lathered every single inch of Rodney's body, examining it as he went.

He stopped every now and then to tweak Rodney's nipples, or to stroke his chest hair. His agile fingers found freckles and moles as if mapping them, lingered on a faint scar on Rodney's hip, legacy of an ice hockey accident when he was twelve, then moved on, slow but unceasing in their quest to map Rodney's flesh.

Rodney didn't move, he just allowed himself to be examined, too lost to respond with anything other than an honesty that went soul deep. After several minutes, John turned him around, and pushed him forwards gently so that he was out of the immediate flow of the water.

Now Rodney felt John's fingers on his back, stroking softly. They dipped lower, and found the mark on his ass, and Rodney heard his top make a little growling sound in the back of his throat. Then John was on his knees behind him, licking the mark with his tongue as if reliving the events of the previous night, his hands hot and eager on Rodney's hips as he held him in place.

Rodney put his hands on the tiled wall in front of him to keep himself from falling, and then he felt his legs being worked open, and fingers nudging the entrance to his anus.

"Are you sore after last night?" John asked him. Rodney glanced over his shoulder to see John inspecting the puckered opening between his buttocks, gazing at it intently, his fingers stroking softly in a way that made Rodney gasp.

"Not much. A bit…ah…there…burns a little," Rodney said, as John's fingers located the sore spot with unerring accuracy.

"Mmm…but you're not torn…just stretched – so I'll take you again later," John told him, and Rodney felt it again – that wave of pleasure. John wasn't asking. He was taking what was his, staking his claim, and that made Rodney tingle with anticipation as he responded to the words on some raw, basic level.

John removed his fingers, and Rodney let out another gasp as a warm, wet tongue took their place. He'd been rimmed before, but it had never felt like this. John was so sure of himself, taking charge of Rodney's body as if he'd been born to the task, finding pleasure spots that Rodney himself hadn't even known existed. Rodney gave a strangled yelp, his hands scrabbling for purchase on the smooth wall as John's tongue dipped expertly inside him. His cock was now rock hard, and he longed to touch it.

"Can I come?" he panted.

"What do you think?" came John's muffled reply. Rodney sighed, and thumped his head down on his arms.

"I think you're evil," he retorted. "Evil, tormenting, cruel, inhuman…."

He was rewarded for that litany of insults by a sharp, stinging slap to his buttocks that made a delicious warmth spread throughout his entire body. "Ow! Also – not a disincentive to mouthing off," he said, and heard John snort with laughter behind him.

"Oh god – I knew you'd be a handful but now I can see that's an understatement," John said. He moved away from Rodney's ass, and Rodney pouted into his arms, missing the fantastic sensation of being rimmed. John pulled him close and kissed the pout away, keeping Rodney under the water so that the soapy lather was washed from his skin.

"Can I wash you?" Rodney asked, drawing back a little and liking the way the water made John's eyelashes look thick and even darker. He had never been particularly interested in washing any of his previous tops, but there was something so soothing and sensual about the way John had just handled him that he was eager to try it for himself.

"Sure. I can't promise to keep my hands off you while you work though," John grinned. Rodney blinked. He'd never had a top this into his body before. Rodney knew he had the finest mind in two galaxies but he'd never fooled himself that his body was anything special. And yet, the way John behaved you'd think he was some kind of Adonis.

Rodney picked up the soap, and began lathering it over John's skin. Now John *was* some kind of Adonis. His body was long and lean, the muscles taut and toned beneath the flesh, and it was a pleasure for Rodney to let his fingers linger on his skin as he washed him.

He went down on his knees, and took John's penis in his soapy fingers. He'd seen it last night, but his main reaction then had been to worry how he'd ever manage to take it into his ass. Now he had a chance to really appreciate it – and it was magnificent. It was hard and powerful, both longer and thicker than any other top Rodney had been with. It wasn't pretty – it had a raw, blunt quality to it - but its beauty was precisely in its jutting, arrogant strength.

Rodney soaped it gently, lost in the task, loving the way the warm, hard skin felt beneath his fingertips. John moaned, and Rodney glanced up to find his top standing under the water, his head thrown back, his eyes closed, making soft little sounds in the back of his throat.

It was such an intoxicating sight that Rodney's own cock spasmed with need. He sighed – John seemed to have a thing about controlling when his sub could come, so Rodney doubted he was going to get permission any time soon. At least John couldn't stop him masturbating in the privacy of his own room though, and, looking up at John's beautiful naked body and magnificent hard cock, Rodney thought he'd have enough fuel for masturbatory fantasies for a long time to come.

Rodney washed the soap off John's hard cock, sliding his hand firmly along the shaft to keep his top fully erect, and then he couldn't resist pressing a kiss to the tip of it. One kiss became two, and then Rodney couldn't help sliding his lips around the velvety head, and sucking down gently.

John's eyes flickered open, and his hand came to rest on Rodney's head. Rodney paused – he should probably have asked permission to start sucking, and he wasn't sure whether John was the kind of top who made an issue out of that kind of thing.

"Is it time?" John asked. Rodney frowned, wondering whether he'd heard wrong because he had no idea what the hell that meant.

"Time for what?" he asked, pressing another kiss along the side of John's cock, completely transfixed by it.

John grinned. "Time for that truly spectacular blowjob you've been promising me for so long," he replied.

Rodney snorted. "My blowjobs *are* truly spectacular," he admitted. "But you'll need to be sitting down because your knees are going to give way."

"They're that good?" John raised an eyebrow. Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Oh yeah. A Rodney McKay special is *definitely* that good," Rodney said, without a trace of modesty. This was one thing he'd perfected. He knew that it pissed off his tops when he wouldn't let them take him up the ass, so he'd decided that he needed a talent to make up for it. Having set himself the challenge, he'd thrown himself into it with dedication, practising his art endlessly until he was sure that he had mastered it. He'd enjoyed the learning process – he lived so much in his head that it was a relief to lose himself in something this basic, and he found that it relaxed him, and helped him switch off.

"Ooookay." John sounded unsure.

Rodney got to his feet, with a smug smile on his face. "It's true, I'm an extremely arrogant man," he said, opening the shower door, grabbing John's hand, and leading him out. "But I have a lot to be arrogant about. For starters – genius." He pointed to his head with his finger. "And then, also, blowjob expert."

He reached for a towel and patted John down, then grabbed his hand again and led him back into the bedroom. "You didn't think a mouth this active was just good for talking did you?" he said, sitting John down on the bed, and kneeling down in front of him.

"Well, it's pretty good at eating too," John commented. Rodney rolled his eyes at that but he couldn't help giving a little giggle all the same. Then he pushed John's thighs open and settled between them. John's cock was still semi-erect, and Rodney took a moment to compose himself. He wanted this to be good, the way John had made last night so good. He wanted to repay the man for that. He wanted this to be the best blowjob he'd ever given.

He rested his hands on John's legs, and leaned forward to blow on the tip of John's cock. It hardened almost instantly, and Rodney relaxed, and started humming softly to himself at the back of his throat. He longed to take this cock into his mouth. He *ached* in anticipation of widening his jaw to take this magnificent breadth between his lips, but he knew something this important couldn't be rushed.

Instead he sucked gently on the very tip, and felt John shudder beneath him. One of John's hands came up and rested on Rodney's head, stroking his hair gently, and Rodney relaxed even more, loving the way that felt.

Rodney continued to suck on the tip of John's hard penis, swirling his tongue around the crown, concentrating on teasing the little slit. John sighed and leaned back, and Rodney took that as his cue to lean in.

He didn't give John any warning, he just took the tip of his cock into his mouth again, and then, without stopping, moved his lips down, and down, and down, relaxing his throat muscles so he could take John deep into the back of his mouth without gagging. This had taken a lot of practice, and Rodney had never swallowed such a big cock before, but adrenaline and his own arousal carried him through. He continued to move his head down, taking John's cock deep inside his throat, rubbing the sensitive skin with his lips as he went. John gave a hoarse shout, his eyes wide with amazed pleasure as Rodney ended up close to his balls and then slid back again, lips dragging on the throbbing column of flesh. He repeated the manoeuvre, sliding back and forth, each time performing a perfect deep-throat of John's penis.

Rodney revelled in the exquisite sensation of having such a broad, powerful cock in his mouth. It was a turn on of and by itself, and he lost himself in the task of pleasuring his top. He deep-throated John again and again, and then pulled back, and teased his tongue down the underside of his top's hard shaft. John's cock was purple now, hard and straining, leaking pre-come. Rodney licked a pearly white droplet from the slit and then sucked the very tip again, and John was gasping now, his fingers tightening in Rodney's hair.

Rodney knew that his top was close, and decided that now was the time to bring John to climax. His jaw was aching but he ignored that, and wrapped his lips around John's cock again and then swallowed it whole in one swift movement that made John roar with surprised pleasure. Rodney went fast now, as John bucked into him.

He was completely lost in the moment, worshipping John's cock with his mouth, totally absorbed in his task. He could feel John's penis hitting the back of his throat with every inward thrust, and then John was rising up beneath him, his balls tightening, and he was growling something incoherent. Rodney felt him convulse, and there was a warm gush down the back of his throat as John came. And came. And came.

Rodney felt an inner glow of satisfaction that he'd managed to make his top come so hard and for so long, and then it was over, and John was flaccid and spent in his mouth. Rodney leaned back and gently released him, and then dipped his head forward and tongued John's sated cock to make sure it was completely clean. Only when he was satisfied did he finally look up to see John lying back on the bed, his body as relaxed as a rag doll, staring at him with amazed hazel eyes.

"Truly spectacular?" Rodney raised an eyebrow.

"Oh ye…" John croaked. He cleared his throat and started again. "Oh god yeah," he said. "Definitely truly spectacular."

"Knees trembling? Legs weak? Body totally boneless and un-coordinated?" Rodney asked.

"What? Mmmm. Yeah," John sighed. "Can't move."

"Good." Rodney grinned, getting up and throwing himself onto the bed beside his top. John managed to move one lazy arm and sling it over his sub, stroking aimlessly with clumsy movements of his hand.

"I'm keeping you. For that alone I'm keeping you," John murmured.

Rodney giggled again, and wished he could stop. All this giggling was becoming ridiculous. John lay there in a stupor for a long time, and Rodney enjoyed being curled up beside him, basking in the fact that *he* had done this to John. Rodney was so turned on by having that magnificent cock in his mouth that he moved his hand down, surreptitiously, to touch his own hard cock. He managed to get in a few hard strokes when suddenly his arm was pulled away by a firm grasp.

"Have you forgotten what I told you last night?" John asked.

Rodney sighed, and rolled his eyes. "No. I was just kind of hoping that you had. Especially as I just gave you a Rodney McKay special."

"I want to be the only one who gives you pleasure, Rodney, the only one to bring you to climax," John told him, and there was an oddly serious look in those hazel eyes of his. "You're mine now, remember." He pressed his lips gently against Rodney's shoulder. "All of you," he said, in a low, intense kind of tone.

Rodney gazed at him, surprised by how important this was to John. It seemed to go beyond just a sex thing – Rodney remembered the way John had behaved back on the planet of the sex-starved tops, and he shivered. That John, jealous, angry and possessive, turned him on in a way he'd never have expected, and he was seeing a glimpse of that same side of John again now.

"Okay," he said softly, moving his hands away from his cock. "It's yours. I'm yours." The words seemed to placate John, and he smiled again. "Although…if you could see your way clear to playing with it any time soon that would make me a very happy man," Rodney added. John laughed out loud.

"Oh yeah. Playing is exactly what I had in mind," he said, an evil glint appearing in his eyes. He got up, slowly, and reached for a box on his nightstand. Rodney scooted over and rested his chin on John's shoulder as John opened it. Inside was an assortment of toys that momentarily took Rodney's breath away.

"Did you have anything you wanted to play with?" John asked. "Any favourite toys?"

Rodney shook his head. "I didn't bring anything like that," he said with a wry shrug, his eyes eagerly surveying the assortment of enticing items in the box. John turned to gaze at him with a surprised look in his eyes.

"Really? Nothing? You must be the only sub on this base who didn't then," he said. Rodney shrugged again.

"Probably. But I was kind of done with the whole sex thing when we came here. I didn't intend to give myself to a top, so I didn't think I'd need anything." Rodney gave a little sigh. "I was doing pretty well with the whole not-having-sex thing too until you showed up," he added, in an accusatory tone.

"Hey, me too," John reminded him with a grin. "But, unlike you, I hadn't lost faith. Lucky for us that SGC counted sex toys as a necessity, and not a personal item."

"Yeah, I'm not sure who'd have kicked up the most fuss if they had – the tops or the subs," Rodney agreed with a grin of his own.

John fished out a couple of sumptuous-looking, padded leather cuffs from the box.

"I think I promised to tie you up," he said, in a low, throaty tone. "Hold out your hands."

Rodney swallowed hard and did as he was told, his eyes wide and worried. He liked the idea of bondage but it always made him feel slightly anxious, and for that reason he was never able to completely let go and enjoy being restrained.

"You trust me remember," John told him soothingly, and Rodney nodded, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. Yes, he'd forgotten that. He was so unused to trusting anyone but he *did* trust this man here. Trusted him with his life, with his heart and with his body – last night had proved that to him. "Good. Now ssh," John said, pressing a kiss to the side of Rodney's neck and nuzzling him there. Rodney's body immediately relaxed into him, as it always did.

John picked up the cuffs again, and fastened them around Rodney's wrists. They felt good – tight enough to be a constant reminder of his bondage, but not so tight they hurt. Rodney was busy getting used to the sensation when John pounced on top of him and pushed him back onto the bed. He held Rodney's arms above his head and straddled him, looking down on him. Rodney remembered being kissed back on a warm, sunny beach, and he sighed and relaxed even more, allowing his shoulders to unfurl as John pressed him into the mattress. Then John took hold of his cuffed wrists and fastened them to the metal rail at the head of the bed with a clip.

Rodney tugged on them for a second, testing them, and fought down a wave of panic.

"Ssh," John said again. "You're mine, Rodney, and I want you completely at my mercy."

Rodney sighed softly, realising that he wanted that too. He shivered as John lowered his head and took one of his nipples in his mouth. His nipples had always been incredibly sensitive –but his previous tops had always been less interested in playing with them than in having Rodney service their bodies in some way. John was different. He seemed genuinely interested in getting to know every single thing that turned Rodney on. He teased Rodney's nipples with his tongue, exploring them with gentle swirls.

"Oh god," Rodney sighed, loving the sensation on his nipples. John held him down, and then sucked down harder, making Rodney squirm as warm ripples of a too-intense pleasure assaulted him in waves. "Oh god, oh god, oh god!" he cried. John bit down gently with his teeth, making Rodney holler even more, and then the torment was over, and John was lapping at his nipples with his tongue again, gentle and loving.

"You know…I think I need to put another mark on you," John said, with a feral grin. Rodney felt his stomach do a little flip of anticipation. He loved the mark he had on his buttock – he loved that John liked marking him with his teeth, but he was full of excited trepidation at the thought of a nipple being bitten. "Just give yourself up to it," John said, stroking his hair gently. Rodney nodded, and tried his hardest to relax as John moved forward and captured his other nipple between his lips, sucking gently. He opened his mouth to cover the entire nipple, and then his teeth were sinking very slowly into Rodney's flesh. Rodney hissed and his body twisted against the brutal embrace, but John held him down, stroking him as he bit him, and Rodney loved and hated the marking at one and the same time. Then, suddenly, it was over, and John released his poor, abused flesh. Rodney glanced down to see the perfect red mark on his chest, and he couldn't stop himself grinning. John grinned back.

"God I love marking you," he murmured, fingering the mark gently with one fingertip. "And I love the way you respond when I suck your nipples. I think I need to play with them a lot."

"Mmm," Rodney sighed, happy to hear it. He'd often fantasised about being held down and just having his nipples played with for hours on end, but he'd never had a top who'd been that interested before, beyond the occasional use of nipple clamps.

"There are other ways we could torment them." John gave an evil grin, and reached for his box of tricks again. Rodney's eyes widened as his top pulled out a long, white feather and he gave a disbelieving snort.

"You're going to tickle me to death?" he asked. John laughed.

"Oh no. Something else." He placed the tip of the quill end of the feather on Rodney's chest, and pressed it into his flesh, and then dragged it down towards his left nipple. It was a peculiar sensation – kind of scratchy, and Rodney watched it go lower in trepidation, wondering how it would feel on his sensitive nipples. It scratched closer, and closer…and then, without warning, John lifted the nib of the feather and poked it down hard on Rodney's nipple.

"Oh shit! God! No!" Rodney howled, as the light, blunt tip dug deep into the nub of flesh. It hurt, but it also sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through him.

"Hold it," John said, his voice the only constant as he held the feather in place, still stuck deep in Rodney's nipple.

"Oh god…please…please…" Rodney moaned incoherently. He couldn't take it any more and wriggled so much that John lost his grip, and then, thankfully, the sensation stopped and Rodney lay there, blinking the sweat away from his forehead. "Only an evil genius would think of doing that with a bloody feather," Rodney groused when he'd got his breath back.

John wasn't smiling though. He was running a possessive hand over Rodney's body, shaking his head. "You're mine, Rodney. You have to learn to submit," he said. "I could tie you tighter, make sure you take what I want to hand out, for as long as I want to hand it out, but I'd prefer you to offer yourself up willingly, without trying to get out of it."

Rodney gazed at him blankly. "It hurt," he whimpered at last.

"I know." John gazed back at him, uncompromising. "That's what makes your submission the sweeter – if it's easy then you won't get the same high. Trust me."

Rodney took a deep breath. He had been right earlier – there was no way John was going to let him pay lip service to his own submission. He wanted Rodney to surrender to him completely, and he wasn't going to be satisfied with anything less. Little things like this were less because he wanted to cause Rodney pain than a test of how much Rodney was really offering up to him.

"Okay. I'll try," Rodney said at last, surprising himself. John smiled, and leaned down to press a deep, comforting kiss on Rodney's mouth.

"I promise it'll be good – better than you can ever imagine, but you have to accept what I want to do or it won't work," he said. Rodney nodded, and then shuddered slightly as John picked up the feather again. "Now, because you moved last time, this time I'll hold it there for longer," John told him, and Rodney felt his stomach do a little flip. He found John's words and tone more arousing than he thought he really should. There was something intoxicating about giving himself up so completely to someone else's will, and Rodney closed his eyes, whimpering slightly, as the sharp point of the feather landed on his chest and began its slow crawl down towards his right nipple this time.

He was squirming in anticipation as it got closer and closer, and, unable to keep his eyes closed, he opened them in time to see John move his hand swiftly and then the point of the feather was being pressed into his nipple again, and it felt so intense, but at the same time it felt so good too. Rodney gasped, trying not to flail and twist away, desperately trying to surrender to his top's will, and John was kneeling above him the entire time, soothing him with little words of comfort and encouragement.

"That's it. Take it, Rodney. Just surrender to me. Let me do this…let me play with your body, any way I want. Ssh, ssh, good boy…god you look so beautiful when you give yourself up to me…."

Rodney was moaning now, longing for his nipple to be released from the dull, constant ache of having the tip of the feather poked onto it. John was pressing it down so hard that it felt as if it was going deeper and deeper, although logically he knew that it wasn't, that his body wasn't being pierced by it. It just felt that way.

"Good boy. You're doing so well. Take it for a bit longer – for me. You can do that can't you, Rodney?" John asked. Rodney gazed up at him blindly, about to tell him that he couldn't, that John had to release him now, but instead he had a moment of revelation instead.

For one long moment in time, it seemed to Rodney that they were joined, locked in the same bubble of energy, and it flowed freely between them, as sweet and warm as honey. There was just him and John, and the sound of John's voice, and the unbearable pricking sensation in his chest, and a feeling that was like nothing he'd ever felt before.

Oh god – this was good. He could do this. He *wanted* to do this. Wanted to give himself up to John, and drink from this honey cup forever. His entire body was shaking from the effort of not moving, but still he kept in position, his blue eyes locked with John's hazel ones, both of them transfixed by each other. Rodney thought he could have taken it forever if John asked him to, and that was a moment of revelation for him. And then it was over, and Rodney gave a whimper that was part relief and part disappointment. John removed the feather, and took Rodney's sore, abused nipple between his warm, gentle lips, lapping at it. The nipple was so sensitised that Rodney gasped in pleasure. John's hands were firm on his body, stroking him, gentling him, calming him, and it was the best feeling in the whole world.

Finally John released him, and sat back on his heels. "How was that?" he asked.

"Just…I don't know. Terrible and fantastic at the same time," Rodney croaked.

John grinned. "I love playing with you. I've never had a response like it. It's just…indescribable," he said, looking a little bemused.

"Did you feel it too?" Rodney asked, in a slightly awed tone. "That moment…when it felt like there was something warm flowing between us. What was that?"

"I think it was something my father told me about a long time ago," John said softly, gently stroking Rodney's nipples with just the lightest, gossamer touch of his fingers.

"Did he say what it was?"

"Oh yeah." John grinned at him, and then lowered his head and took hold of Rodney's lips with his own, kissing him deeply. When he released him, he nuzzled Rodney's neck, and whispered something that Rodney only half heard, and could barely make sense of, but it sounded like "that was the for real moment".

Then John's mouth was travelling lower so Rodney didn't have any brain power left to think about anything at all. Now John was gentle, just kissing and lightly sucking as his mouth travelled over Rodney's body. He treated Rodney's body like his own personal playground, taking complete charge of it, and Rodney, bound as he was, could do nothing but offer himself up to his top. John was dedicated in his exploration as well. He seemed as fascinated by Rodney as he had been in the shower, those hazel eyes of his missing nothing as he nuzzled, and licked, and kissed his way over Rodney's naked skin.

He got to Rodney's cock and glanced up, an anticipatory gleam in his eyes. "This would look good in a cock ring," he murmured. Rodney's cock bounced enthusiastically at that idea. "My cock ring. I like the idea of you wearing it all day."

"Me too," Rodney muttered weakly. John reached out and slid his finger over Rodney's hard shaft and Rodney gave a little yelp as the sensitised flesh cried out for the release of orgasm. John was not inclined to be merciful though – Rodney could see that by the look in his top's eyes.

"Hold it for me, Rodney."

"Or?" Rodney tugged on his wrist cuffs slightly, feeling it was time they established some ground rules here. He was getting some idea of the kind of top John was, but he wanted more to go on.

John paused for a moment. "There's no 'or'," he said. "I'm telling you to hold it and last night you told me you could do that for as long as I ordered. I'm not asking you to do anything you said you couldn't do, and as you're my sub, I expect you to obey me."

Rodney found that he liked the uncompromising tone in John's voice but still he wanted to test those boundaries.

"And deliberate disobedience?" he asked. "What happens then?"

John placed his hand very slowly around Rodney's cock and slid it along, making Rodney's breath hitch in his throat.

"I'm not making any threats, Rodney. I'm your top – I expect your obedience in the bedroom. It all goes back to that issue of trust. I'm not playing a game here, Rodney. If you can't do something you have to tell me – I'll always listen. If you just don't *want* to obey me – well, that's something a bit different, and we'd have to talk about that."

Rodney relaxed into his bonds. There was no trap here, designed to trick an unwary sub into making a mistake. John's rules seemed deceptively straightforward, and Rodney found that he *did* want to please him. He had never been a particularly rebellious sub in any case – he wasn't bratty on purpose to get attention as some subs were. He wanted to be sexually submissive, but his tops had never been strong enough to keep his interest, and they'd all tried to punish him for his smart mouth whereas John just seemed to find him amusing. It was different, and oddly reassuring.

"Now relax, and stop thinking…I'm going to turn you over," John said, unfastening Rodney's hands from the rail, and flipping him onto his stomach. He refastened Rodney's bonds and then Rodney felt John straddle him. He moaned as John kissed the back of his neck, and stroked his hair. This felt so much more tender and intimate than his previous experiences.

"Sometimes I'll want you still, and quiet, but not now," John whispered in his ear. "I want to see the real Rodney, the one you keep hidden."

"I don't…" Rodney began, but then he gave a soft mewl of pleasure as John's hands parted his buttocks, and John's tongue slid between them. It felt so warm, so delicious, *so* incredibly good that he was incapable of coherent thought for awhile.

John lapped his anus with long, sweet strokes of his tongue, and Rodney grasped his chains in his hands and wriggled, abandoning himself to the pleasure. He opened his legs wider, to give John better access, and panted with pleasure as John's tongue went deeper. John's hands were firm on his buttocks, holding them apart, and Rodney felt his entire body melt into a puddle of sensation. He stopped thinking, and just responded to John's every touch, moaning with each inward thrust of John's tongue, and sighing with pleasure as John swirled around the sensitive opening. His body was writhing, rising and falling to meet that exquisite wet pleasure, and the only thing he remembered, dimly, at the back of his mind, was that he couldn't come. He could enjoy this for as long as he wanted, but he mustn't come.

Rodney wasn't sure how long he lay there, just accepting all that intense physical bliss – at some point he zoned out, and when he came to he could feel John stroking his body and speaking to him in a low, affectionate tone.

"Where…what…?" Rodney blinked, raising his head and looking around, blearily.

"Ssh, it's okay. I just wanted to get you completely relaxed. I'm going to take you again in a minute," John told him. Rodney felt a kiss being pressed to the side of his face, and then John was unfastening him again, rolling him over once more, only to tie him to the rail again when he was lying on his back. Rodney felt himself tensing inside ever so slightly. He had loved the sensation of taking John's big, hard cock into his body the previous night, but he wasn't sure he was ready to do that again so soon.

"I want to look at you when I take you," John told him, leaning over him. "And I want you to come with me inside you again. Straight after I've come, you can come. Understand?"

Rodney gazed up at him, nodding. "Like last night," he murmured. "Is there a reason why?"

John grinned, his white teeth flashing bright inside his tanned face. "You're thinking too much McKay. We're gonna have to work on that."

"It's just…it seems important to you," Rodney replied.

"It is. The only time I want you to come in the next few weeks is with me inside you," John told him.

"What?" Rodney tried to sit up but his cuffs pulled him back down onto the bed. He'd had plans to masturbate in his room when they were apart, but John's plans seemed to be headed in an exponentially different direction.

John grinned again, and pressed another kiss to Rodney's dismayed lips. "You heard," he said. "Call it training if you like. I want you to associate me being inside you with you being able to come. I want you to crave taking me into your body, Rodney, knowing you'll get some release when I'm done." Then he dropped his head down, and nuzzled at Rodney's ear. "I know you'll be apprehensive about anal sex for awhile – one night isn't going to change that immediately," he murmured, his breath tickling the side of Rodney's face. "I want you to look forward to it, Rodney."

"Last night was fantastic," Rodney said.

"But now you're a little bit tense again, yes?" John gently tickled Rodney's left nipple and Rodney sighed.

"A little," he admitted.

"That's okay. I want you to be honest. I will take you again, Rodney – but it'll be good, like it was last night, and afterwards you'll get to come."

John kissed him again, and then he reached for the lube on the nightstand and slid down Rodney's body. He pushed Rodney's legs apart, and next thing Rodney knew something cold was being circled around his anus. He willed himself to relax, but his old tendency to clench at the thought of being penetrated returned.

"Ssh. It's okay. We can take as long as we like," John told him, grinning at him.

Rodney closed his eyes and let himself go limp in his bonds as John played with his anus. Rodney became used to the sensation of John's fingers sliding into his body, in and out, sometimes one, sometimes two, and then three. He remembered the previous evening and how good it had felt having John ride him like that. John had the widest, most powerful cock of any top he'd been with, but miraculously his body had stretched to take it, and it had felt so amazing to take it into him, and have John claim him with it.

Slowly, Rodney started to relax again. It was easy to relax with John – his body, as usual, was always one step ahead of his mind, and it always went very relaxed and calm whenever John was close by. His cock was flagging now, still a little apprehensive about what was to come, but Rodney hoped John wouldn't neglect it.

Finally, John seemed to think he was ready, and Rodney watched as his top slathered lubricant over that hard, thick cock, and then pushed Rodney's legs apart again, and positioned himself between them. Rodney pulled his knees back, opening himself up for John to take him, and John gently parted his buttocks and then pressed his cock into the slicked opening.

Rodney closed his eyes, trying to get accustomed to the sensation – somehow he had the feeling he was going to be in this position a lot from now on. His anus remained clenched at first, and John did what he had the previous night, and just dipped the tip of his cock in and then backed out again, pressing a little harder each time until he made a determined push to get past the ring of muscle. Rodney gave a startled shout. Going in, it always felt like he couldn't take it, and this time around there was still a residual burn from the previous evening, and he whimpered, trembling. John slid in the rest of the way, and then he lay on top of Rodney, fully inserted inside him, his hands coming to rest on either side of Rodney's head.

"Ssh, just take some time," he whispered. He claimed Rodney's lips with his own again and Rodney sighed. His body melted against his top's, and he felt his ass loosen up around the powerful intruder lodged deep inside. The burn soon wore off, and before long Rodney was enjoying the sensation of John lying on top of him, his hard cock pressed deep within his body. He loved the kisses John kept bestowing on his lips, and the way John was looking down at him, his hazel eyes full of some shining emotion that Rodney had never seen in a lover's eyes before.

"God you feel good," John murmured to him. "When I'm not inside you I want to be. I've never felt as good as I do when I'm in you. When we go back to work, I'll have to call you to my office every few hours just so I can take you."

Rodney moaned softly. He knew that John was trying to turn him on, to get him erect again, and it was damn well working!

"You'll catch me looking at your ass when we're out in the city, and I'll be thinking of this." John pulled back, ever so slightly, and bounced his hips to illustrate the point, and a wave of white hot pleasure fizzed through Rodney's body. John grinned and then moved his hips back again and thrust in. Rodney gave a startled gasp as his entire body seemed to ripple. John got into a rhythm, taking Rodney slowly, with long, leisurely strokes. Rodney remembered that John had already come this morning, so he wasn't urgent. He smiled down on Rodney as he rode him, sliding in and out of Rodney's body with gentle, loving thrusts that relaxed Rodney even more. He felt himself growing hard again as John gazed down on him, and John's hard cock claimed him for his own once more.

He was lost in this moment, completely wrapped up in his top. Right now, he didn't care if he got to come or not. He just wanted to feel John moving inside him, to see the expression in John's eyes when he took him, and to offer up his naked, chained body for his top to use in any way he liked.

John seemed to sense his mood, and his smile faded, and his expression became more intense, and once again Rodney felt that sensation of a warm, sweetness flow between them. He was John's. He belonged to this man who was claiming him so expertly, and he wanted nothing more than to surrender his body to him, to allow him to take his pleasure from it. This…*this* was the real him, the one John told him he kept hidden. This was him finding his own submissive headspace, for the first time in his life, knowing he could relax and be himself because he was with someone he trusted.

Now they were moving as one, John thrusting powerfully into his open, relaxed body, Rodney moving in time to those thrusts, welcoming every single one deep within. His nerve endings were tingling, and his cock was rock hard, weeping pre-come, but there was no question of him coming before he was entitled to do so – he belonged to John, and would do as he'd been ordered, and his body went into a thrilled spasm as he thought that. Then he felt John shudder, and a warmth spread inside him.

"Rodney!" John shouted, his face scrunching up. "Oh shit…Rodney," he whispered, giving one last, half-hearted little thrust. Rodney knew that John had come, and then, just a split second later, his own cock erupted, splattering his stomach and John's with his come.

Rodney hadn't even been aware he was so close, that he was just holding on for John's climax, but the way John had hollered out his name as he had his orgasm had triggered an immediate and instinctive reaction in Rodney's body.

John smiled down at him, and then collapsed on top of him. He rested his head in the crook of Rodney's neck and just lay there, the two of them completely as one.

Rodney didn't want to move. Not ever. He wanted to lie here, supine and bound, his body still clenched tight around his top's cock, John's hair tickling the underside of his chin, for the rest of his life. Finally, John moved and Rodney gave a whimper of disappointment as he withdrew his cock from Rodney's anus.

Then he moved, slowly, to unfasten Rodney's cuffs, before throwing himself back down on Rodney's body again. Rodney wrapped his newly-freed arms around him, and kissed the side of his top's exhausted face. It all felt so raw, and kind of emotional, and he closed his eyes as he felt an unfamiliar prickling behind his eyelids.

"Rodney?" John moved, and Rodney felt the light press of a kiss on his cheek. "Hey." John rolled to one side and pulled Rodney into his arms. Rodney kept his eyes tightly shut. He had no idea what kept happening when they were making love but afterwards he felt so vulnerable, as if he'd laid his soul bare, offered it up, naked and shrivelled and shivering, for the taking.

John didn't say anything, he just kissed Rodney's hair, and held him close, his arms a safe haven while Rodney struggled with all the unfamiliar emotions coursing through his body. How had he thought he could do this? Be with someone like this, who wanted to love him, who wanted to know him, inside out?

He was already starting to crave John's touch – where would that end? It wasn't just the sex, even though that had been mindblowing and extraordinary and so exponentially better than any sex he'd ever had before that it might as well have been a different act. No, it was the light in John's eyes when he'd looked at him while thrusting into him, and the way Rodney had felt offering himself up to John to take.

He'd never actually *felt* submission like this before, had never allowed himself to surrender to his inner submissive, and he had let all his guards down in the process. The high had been unreal and sublime, but now he worried that he could get too used to something this good, and he already knew it wasn't going to last. That didn't usually matter because he wasn't that personally invested in his relationships – his smart mouth kept any kind of sentimentality at bay, and he never, ever talked about his feelings.

Yet now he was lying here, tears leaking out from behind his eyelids, and he resolutely refused to cry. He had no idea why crying was even an appropriate response in this situation. John rocked him, his skin salty and musky, and Rodney clung to him.

Rodney struggled to get himself together, and only when he was sure he had managed it did he open his eyes again. Much to his relief John didn't ask him any awkward questions – he was oddly protective, and held Rodney tight in his arms for a long time, before finally getting up and escorting him into the bathroom.

John held him close under the warm shower water while kissing him the entire time, and Rodney just stood there, arms wrapped around John's body, unable to fight the way he felt when John was holding him. Was this what being in love felt like, he wondered, or just the post-sex haze? Was he in love with John? He'd never expected to fall in love with anyone, certainly not with a military fly-boy with sticking up hair and an easy manner than hid a passionate, edgy personality.

When they were done, John got dressed and went to the mess hall to get some food. While he was gone, Rodney sat on the side of the bed and gazed at the picture of John's parents on the nightstand.

"You two have a lot to answer for," he told them, picking up the silver frame and glaring at them. The two men grinned cheerfully back. "He's too good for me," he muttered. "I, of course, am too good for the universe generally, but that's different – it's more of a brain thing. In the relationship sense – I'm not in his league at all. I am so gonna screw it up. And him probably. You won't be smiling then." He put the picture back down with a thump.

John returned a few minutes later clutching a tray containing enough food to last them an entire day. Rodney raised an eyebrow.

"You meant it? The whole, having sex all day thing?"

"Sure. Why? You have any other plans?" John grinned, putting the tray down on the table. Rodney rushed over, and surveyed the food eagerly.

"Nope - food and sex – sounds like an unbeatable combination to me," he replied, sitting at the table and grabbing a bread roll. He stuffed it into his mouth, whole, suddenly realising how hungry he was. The sun was high in the sky, and they'd spent the entire morning making love.

Rodney swallowed the roll down whole, without even tasting it, then surveyed the tray again, trying to decide what to eat next. John took a pastry and broke a piece off, then held it up to Rodney's mouth. Rodney hesitated. Was that where this was going? He wasn't sure that was a good idea. He wasn't sure about anything right now though – he needed some thinking time. So, instead of accepting the food with his mouth, he reached out and took it from John's hand with his fingers, noticing the little flash of disappointment in the other man's eyes as he did so.

"So, how is this going to work when we go back out there?" Rodney asked, gesturing with his head at the door as he ate. "I mean…are there any rules?" Most tops he knew had a whole host of rules, not that he'd ever taken that much notice of them. John looked surprised.

"Nope. Why don't we figure them out as we go along?" he said.

"Really?" Rodney stuffed a pancake into his mouth, and chewed frantically. John gave a little wince.

"Really. Well, except for the rule about not coming unless I'm inside you. That one I expect you to keep."

Rodney's chewing ceased immediately – he'd forgotten about that. "Mmabout that," he said, around his mouthful.

"No arguments, Rodney. I'm right here, along the hallway, and I'm happy to take you whenever you want, so there's no reason for you to go without." John grinned at him.

"I'm over the whole penetration thing," Rodney said, reaching for some coffee to wash down the pancake. "I'm so over that."

John just grinned at him. "Nice try, Rodney, but even if that were true, I still like the idea of your cock being at my mercy."

"Oh nice." Rodney made a face at him.

"I'm just gonna feel jealous if it has any fun without me," John grinned.

"You won't necessarily know," Rodney said confidently.

John laughed out loud. "Remember all those conversations we've had about your poker face?" he said. "You're a terrible liar, McKay. I'll always know."

"Hmph." Rodney made another face, and searched the table for more food.

"We'll take it slow," John told him. "It's early days and I want us to feel our way together. You're just discovering something about your own submission, I think, and there's a hell of a lot that's taking me by surprise too."

"Really?" Rodney glanced up, surprised by that. From where he stood, it looked like John had everything completely under control.

"Really," John said quietly.

"And what about discipline?" Rodney asked, because most tops he'd known wanted to talk about that.

"Well, there's no way I'm letting Peter or anyone else punish you again, so if you screw up out there then your ass is mine," John told him firmly. Rodney thought about that for a moment, and then nodded. He had accepted John as his top, so, technically speaking, it was John's right, and to be honest he didn't see it happening again. His finger was no longer pressed on that self-destruct button, and he had no desire at all to piss off Elizabeth or anyone else. What a couple decided about the way their relationship worked in private was another matter, but John wasn't being very forthcoming on that topic.

"Talking about out there – can we keep this quiet for now?" Rodney asked quietly. John frowned, and his expression changed. "It's just…I need some time to get my head around this. I don't want anyone knowing until I'm ready," he said.

That wasn't entirely true. One part of him wanted to go out there and tell everyone who his new top was. He wanted to shout it from the treetops, and see their faces when they realised that he'd landed himself the most lusted after top on the expedition. But another part of him wanted to keep it quiet until he could get his head around what was happening to him.

Usually in a relationship you didn't have to face seeing your top every day at work, as well as every evening around the base even when you weren't spending time in each other's company as a couple. Doing so under so many watchful eyes made Rodney feel uncomfortable. He tried to explain that, as best he could, to John, and, finally John agreed.

"Okay. But don't take too long," he said. "Because I really doubt I'll be able to be all that discreet for long. I want everyone to know that you're mine, Rodney, because so help me if any other top on this base gets it into their head that you might be available then…"

His hands clenched into tight fists and Rodney gazed at him, feeling an odd wave of affection for his top. John might look as if he had all of the right answers, but, where his own emotions were concerned, John was completely in thrall to his jealousy. It made Rodney feel less as if he was the only one feeling his way in this relationship - John clearly had his own problems to figure out.

"Are you done with the eating?" John asked. "Because it's been half an hour since I last touched you, and my fingers are starting to itch."

"Are you completely insatiable?" Rodney grumbled, enjoying the little warm tingle he got from knowing just how much his top wanted him.

"Yup. Now get up and get your ass over here," John grinned.

 

~*~


	12. Shielded

Rodney spent the day alternately making love or sleeping like a baby in John's arms. After his recent sleepless nights this did him the world of good, and, by the time he left John's quarters the following morning, his entire body felt boneless and soothed from all the relaxing sex. He ached quite a bit, and was sore in places, but his body felt more alive than it had done for years.

Rodney went back to his quarters and stood there, glancing around the place. It felt as if he'd been a different person when he was last here – as if it had been a lifetime ago. He stood there, blinking, trying to get his head around all that had happened since he'd last stood here.

He already missed the feel of John's fingertips on his skin, and the way his top liked to examine every inch of his body. He missed the way John tasted on his mouth, and the feel of John's thick cock pounding into his body, and, most of all, he missed that magical energy that seemed to surround them whenever their lovemaking reached a particular level of intensity. That energy scared him a little. It seemed to connect them, binding them together with invisible ties, bathing them in a warm, sweet, intoxicating bath. Rodney had never experienced anything like it before, and he craved it and feared it in equal measure.

Rodney changed into a clean uniform and set off for the lab, taking a minor detour via the mess hall on the way. He entered the lab bearing a tray containing a pot of freshly brewed hot coffee, and a dozen donuts.

"Don't panic! Rodney McKay is back at the helm. All is well!" he announced, putting his tray down on the side, and beaming at everyone in the room. "All right, boys and girls, I'm sure you missed me but the genius is back at his work station so you can breathe more easily now. So…." He glanced around. "Did the city blow up in my absence?"

"City is still standing, as you can see," Radek said, rolling his eyes. "And you were only gone for one day! We would all be happy for you to be absent more often I think. Was very quiet in here yes?" He glanced around the room, and the science team shot fearful glances in Rodney's direction, clearly unsure whether it would be wise to admit that.

"Ah, you were bored without me," Rodney beamed.

"I am glad you took some time away. Are you better able to concentrate now?" Radek asked softly, taking Rodney off to one side. Rodney beamed at him.

"My genius is once again operating at full force, yes," he told Radek. The other scientist rolled his eyes at that. "Well – what are you waiting for? The donuts are on me. Now, what systems have you been destroying while I've been gone, Radek?" Rodney handed Radek a donut, and glanced over the scientist's shoulder.

The morning went quickly. Rodney threw himself back into his work, a whirlwind of happy, manic energy, and the people in his team started to relax – although he did catch them sneaking glances at him when they thought he wasn't looking, surprised and wrong-footed by his buoyant mood. Rodney couldn't help himself – he felt so damn *good*, and he bounced around the lab, radiating goodwill. Every now and then he'd pause for a moment in what he was doing, and rest his hand for a split second over his shirt, feeling the bite mark on the nipple through the thin fabric. Or he'd close his eyes for just a second, and have a flash of memory of John leaning over him, his white teeth gleaming against his tanned skin as he grinned down at him, and then slowly, so slowly, slid that powerful cock of his deep into Rodney's ass.

He received an email at 10.20. Just one line but it made his entire body tingle:

"My quarters. 6 p.m. Don't be late. Your ass is mine."

Rodney giggled, and then glanced around the room to make sure nobody had heard. Radek shot him a surprised look but nobody else seemed to be watching. Rodney wondered just how much sex two people could have without spontaneously combusting but then he decided that he was quite happy to devote his life to finding out.

At 12 p.m. he went to the control room for a senior staff meeting. John was already there, sitting in the slouched position he favoured. His eyes lit up when Rodney came in but he didn't move, he just sat there and watched Rodney with hungry eyes as Rodney took his seat. Rodney flushed. He doubted that anyone else had noticed but John's gaze was so predatory that it made him want to grab his top, and take him some place private.

Rodney sat down, and tried to ignore the growing heat in his pants. John sat back and gazed at him, a lazy smile on his features, like a cat playing with a mouse. He undressed Rodney with his eyes, the expression in them absolutely plain for Rodney to read. Rodney tried to keep his mind on the meeting but he was so flustered that Elizabeth ended up asking him if he was feeling okay.

"Fine," he muttered. "Just a little…heatstroke." He made a face at John who grinned, smugly, and made a, "What? I'm not doing anything!" gesture with his hands. Rodney glared at him. Two could play at this game.

He left the meeting the minute it finished and headed straight for the transporter, activating the door behind him but not selecting a destination. Everyone else worked within walking distance – John was the only person who needed to use the transporter to get to his office. Sure enough, a few seconds later the door opened, and John got in. Rodney waited until the door closed behind him, and then he slammed on the door lock, turned, grabbed his top, and pushed him against the wall, all in one smooth move. Then he got down onto his knees, opened John's fly, and gazed up at him.

"I can't hold out until six," he said. "And, judging by how horny you were acting in there, you can't, either."

"Are you offering me a TSBJ, Rodney?" John asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

"A what? Oh. I see. Idiot. And yes I am. Are you declining?" Rodney raised an equally amused eyebrow, and John laughed out loud.

"Hell no! This kind of thing makes you the sub of my dreams, Rodney. Get to work!"

He slid his hand into Rodney's hair and took hold of it, just lightly, and that made Rodney's body tingle with pleasure. He was claimed. John was *his* top. Rodney peeled down John's pants and boxers to release his already fully erect cock which sprang up, eagerly, without any effort at all on Rodney's part.

"What can I say?" John sighed. "Just sitting in that meeting watching you stammer your way through that technical spec did it for me."

"I don't stammer. Have you ever done this before?" Rodney blew gently on John's cock, and it quivered, satisfyingly, in response. "I mean, have a relationship with someone you work with - not, *this*, obviously," Rodney said, nodding towards John's cock, which was nodding back, looking somewhat crestfallen at not being in his mouth. "Because I haven't, and I have no idea how it works."

"Yes I have," John said. "Are you making me wait, Rodney? Because I'm sure we can make up some rules about *that*."

Rodney grinned, and planted a little kiss on John's eager cock.

"I was just wondering how you manage it, that's all. I've spent most of the morning running around the lab grinning like an idiot, thinking about what we did all day yesterday, and I was completely useless in that meeting just now. Quite frankly, it's distracting. Does it settle down after awhile, or am I condemned to being a simpering halfwit forever?"

"I have no idea," John replied with a shrug, thrusting his hips eagerly in the direction of Rodney's mouth.

"But you just said you'd had relationships with people you worked with," Rodney protested, pausing, tantalisingly, with his mouth just an inch from John's hopeful penis.

"I know, but that was different." John shrugged.

"How?" Rodney frowned, moving in to take the tip of John's cock in his mouth. He could feel John's hand, stroking his hair softly.

"Because I wasn't in love with any of them," John murmured.

Rodney felt his heart flip inside his chest. There it was again, the L word. He loved hearing it but it scared him too, and he was all too well aware that he hadn't said it in return. Rodney had no frame of reference for being in love – it had never happened to him, and he had no idea what it might feel like. He could just say it, for the sake of it, but once it was said the inevitable break-up would be even more painful, and his gut twisted in response to that thought. Instead, he turned his attention to John's cock, deciding that if he couldn't tell his top he loved him then he could at least give him the best damn blow job in the history of the universe.

He adored John's powerful cock in any case – the skin felt hot and silky, stretched over all that ramrod hard strength. Rodney dipped his head and swallowed it deep into his throat, making John yelp with pleasure. Rodney ignored his aching jaw and spent several minutes pleasuring his top's cock, until John came with a shout and Rodney swallowed down his come. He was, he thought, gradually starting to figure out the way John liked to be blown. Everyone was different, and Rodney liked to adapt his technique accordingly. John liked a lot of attention on the very tip of his cock, and he liked Rodney to ripple his lips down over his hard shaft with exquisite slowness. Rodney cleaned up John's spent cock, and then leaned back and gazed up at his top. John was resting against the wall of the transporter, a dreamy look in his eyes. His hand was still stroking Rodney's hair, and he looked utterly boneless and relaxed.

"God that was good, Rodney," he sighed.

"Thank you. Now, next time you look at me like that in meetings you know what to expect." Rodney got up and pressed his destination into the transporter.

"Shit, Rodney, now that I know that I'll do it in every single meeting!" John protested.

Rodney grinned. "Okay – just so long as you know that you're the one who has to get yourself to where you need to be after."

The door opened on cue and Rodney stepped out with a cheery wave of his hand in his top's direction. John's eyes widened with the realisation that his legs weren't doing a good job of holding him up, and he was completely incapable of moving until the after-waves of his blissful orgasm had passed. Rodney just grinned to himself, and started walking off down the hallway.

"I'll get you back, McKay!" he heard John call after him. "Damnit, you're such Trouble."

 

Rodney had never been a clock watcher, but at 5.45 he started finishing up what he was working on, and at 5.55 he was out of the door, much to the surprise of everyone in his team. Usually he was the first to arrive and the last to leave – sometimes they came to work to find he'd never even gone to his quarters the previous night, and was still working. Now though – he just wanted to get to John's quarters, and see what his top had in store for him.

Much to his disappointment, John wasn't there when he got there. Rodney sat down, then got up again and paced the room impatiently, and then sat down again. He didn't have long to wait – John arrived a few seconds later. He walked in, went straight over to Rodney, and, without pausing, pulled him to his feet by the lapels on his lab coat and kissed him deeply. Rodney sighed and surrendered, his hands going around John's body and coming to rest on his firm, tight ass.

They kissed hungrily, passionately, for several minutes and then John drew back. "Damnit I've been dreaming about doing that all day." He glanced down at Rodney and then frowned. "Only, in my dreams you were completely naked. You know, I think we might have to make it a rule that when we're alone together, you don't wear any clothes."

"Oh please. That sounds very unhygienic," Rodney sniffed.

"I mean it." John grabbed his lab coat and ripped it bodily from him. "I want access, Rodney! I want to know your body is ready and available any time I want to touch it. And besides…" he paused for a moment in unzipping Rodney's fly, and gazed at him fondly. "I like looking at you."

"What?" Rodney frowned.

"You heard. I like your body. I want to be able to see it as often as possible. And I want you to get used to being naked, Rodney – I want you to look more comfortable in your own skin. I saw the way you couldn't wait to get into my bathrobe yesterday after we had sex, or to wrap a towel around your waist. I don't want you to do that." John unzipped Rodney's shirt, yanked it over his head, and then pressed a kiss to Rodney's now naked shoulder. "I want you to accept that you're my sub and I get off on looking at you – because you look damn good, Rodney."

Rodney snorted. Okay, so he was a moderately good-looking man, but he didn't kid himself that he had the kind of sexual allure that John seemed to see in him. His body was okay – it wasn't in brilliant shape, but it wasn't too bad. He still wasn't as fit as he could be, but he'd toned up a lot since coming to Atlantis, and he'd lost some weight during his recent emotional turmoil.

"I mean it," John said, his hazel eyes deadly serious. "It's not something you shrug off, Rodney. It's our second rule. I want you to get used to being naked around me. I want you to view your body as my plaything, ready for my use any time I want to touch you, or take you. Got that?"

Rodney sighed, and melted against his top, finding John's words a total turn on.

"Yeah," he said, "Got it."

"Good." John kissed the side of his neck and then licked a trail down to his nipples. They were still a little sore after all the play the previous day, but John just kissed and licked them gently and Rodney relaxed and allowed his top to do whatever he wanted. John got him undressed, and then led him over to the bed.

"I want to take you from behind," he said, guiding Rodney onto the mattress. Rodney shivered, excited by the idea. Up until now, John had only taken him from on top, always looking into Rodney's eyes when they made love, reassuring him and kissing him throughout. This felt more basic, more like a top asserting his right over his sub's body, and that sent a thrill of arousal through Rodney, making his cock quiver. He knelt on the bed, taking up the position that John guided him into. John stood behind him, and a few seconds later Rodney felt the cool caress of lube against his anus.

"Ssh…good boy…open up for me," John said, in that low, throaty tone he saved just for sex. Rodney moaned, and opened up so that John could get his fingers inside him. "Oh this is such a good look for you," John murmured. "On all fours, naked and exposed. I'm not even going to get undressed, boy. I'm going to just release my hard cock and take you like this."

That excited Rodney even more, and he mewled and put his head back. He felt completely submissive like this, every inch his top's plaything. John caressed his naked bottom for a few seconds, and then Rodney heard him undo his zip, and few seconds later he felt something big and wide rub against his opening.

"I'm going to take you harder this time," John whispered. "Now you're getting used to it. I want you to just kneel there and take me, Rodney. You know the rules – you can come when I'm done, and not before. Now open up for me."

Rodney found he wasn't tense – he even backed up a little, his ass ready and waiting, longing to feel John's hard cock inside him, and dying to have his own release. John opened up his buttocks with his hands, and Rodney felt his cock pressing against his anus, and then John, true to his word, plunged all the way in. Rodney let out a roar, and bucked slightly, tears pricking behind his eyes from the sudden intrusion. John held his hips tight, stroking him, calming him, and then Rodney's body adjusted and it just felt good, the way it always did.

John began thrusting with his hips, powerful, surging thrusts that hit some sweet spot inside Rodney unerringly every single time. He felt lost in the moment, utterly enjoying the sensation of being taken from behind by his strong top, and he threw his head back and cried out with every inward thrust, screaming out his pleasure and devotion.

This was his top taking him, claiming him again, reducing Rodney to a mass of molten sensation, and Rodney loved how it made him feel. Their bodies seemed to fit so perfectly together, and John's cock felt as if it belonged here, rammed deep inside his ass, connecting their bodies together and making them move as one.

John's thrusting became more urgent, and was so powerful now that Rodney wasn't sure he could take it, and then he felt John's hand on his own cock, and heard John growling out his name, over and over again, the way he often did whenever he came. His hand was still moving on Rodney's cock, but again, the sound of his own name on John's lips at his moment of orgasm did it for Rodney and he came over John's hand a few seconds later.

Rodney was so zoned out by his incredible orgasm that he fell onto the bed and just lay there for the next few minutes, dead to the world. John dropped down beside him and wrapped his arms around him, and Rodney sighed, feeling utterly relaxed. There was something *too* good about the way John's clothed body felt against his own naked one. It made him feel every inch the submissive, in thrall to his top's commands, and he was surprised to realise just how much he relished feeling like this.

Finally, John tore himself away and got washed up, then went to get some food, while Rodney continued to just lie there, basking in the warm glow that came in the aftermath of truly great sex. When John returned Rodney got up, and reached for John's bathrobe, but that earned him a glare from John so he rolled his eyes and dropped it again.

"Nobody ever looks good eating naked," Rodney protested. John just grinned.

"You look fine. The point is, I like having you here, naked and within touching distance," he said. "And besides, it's a rule now, so shut up and sit down." He dropped a kiss on Rodney's shoulder and spidered his fingers lightly across Rodney's stomach, making Rodney giggle and give in.

He felt stupid sitting at the table to eat without one scrap of clothing to cover himself, but John started talking to him as if it was the most natural thing in the world for them to be sitting at the table, one naked, one clothed, eating their dinner. And if his top wanted it this way then Rodney couldn't really think of any good reasons to keep arguing about it. He supposed it would take awhile to get used to it though.

Rodney didn't have any particular hang-ups about his own body but he wasn't comfortable seeing so much of it on display, either. He tried to sit up and suck his stomach in, but that was impossible while he was eating and he just ended up feeling more self-conscious than ever. To cover his embarrassment he shovelled his food down his throat even faster than usual, and then looked up, aware of John's eyes on him, to see his top shaking his head.

"Slow down, Rodney. We have all evening," John told him. "You eat way too fast anyway."

"I like food," Rodney retorted.

"You wouldn't think it to watch you eat," John replied. "It disappears so fast it's like all you want to do is get rid of it. You could try actually tasting it. Here." He picked up a forkful of food and held it to Rodney's mouth. "Now, go slow," he said.

Rodney hesitated, and then opened his mouth and took the food. He saw a flash of pleasure light up John's eyes but it was matched almost immediately by the wave of panic he felt in his own belly. This was too much for Rodney. He'd been swept off his feet and now he felt out of control, in the grip of something that was overwhelming his life. He'd never seriously thought about sharing a plate with a top before – he was too obsessed with food to want to surrender that degree of control – but, even more than that, he was very well aware of what it meant to share a plate with a top. It signalled to the world that they were a couple, and in a serious relationship at that, and once they reached that point Rodney was afraid that the inevitable break-up would be more public and painful than he could stand. He chewed the mouthful of food slowly, barely tasting it.

"Yes, yes, very nice," he said when he was done, turning back to his own meal quickly before John could feed him another mouthful. "But the quicker we go, the sooner we can get back to the whole having hot sex thing."

John couldn't disagree with that logic at least, and when Rodney dropped a dollop of gravy down his naked chest a few seconds later, John got to his feet and came over to lick it off with a swirl of his tongue. One thing led to another, and before long they were back on the bed. Rodney was happier when they were having sex. It blocked out the need for him to think about the wider implications of being in what, he was rapidly coming to realise, was a full-blown relationship.

Rodney woke up later that night, after several hours of completely satisfying love-making, to find John's naked body pressed against his back, John's arms tight around his waist, John's breath warming his shoulder. It should have felt suffocating, but it didn't.

Rodney still wasn't entirely sure how all this had happened but he decided to blame it on the beach. Up until that point he'd been perfectly happy living a single life, without a top giving him orders, albeit somewhat sexy orders. Then there had been the sea, and the sand, and Colonel John Sheppard wearing an open-necked shirt with wind billowing through his dark hair, and Rodney had found himself lying on his back being kissed and since then things had happened far too quickly. The trouble was the sex was so damn good that he didn't want it to stop, but the relationship…that freaked the hell out of him. If only he could have one without the other – but would it be so good? Was it possible that it was the relationship that made the sex so satisfying?

Rodney lay there in the dark, gazing at the picture on the nightstand. John's parents smiled at him from it, their arms wrapped around each other much as John's were wrapped around him right now. Just because they had been happy didn't mean his relationship with John would work out but Rodney felt the weight of John's expectations radiating out from their beaming smiles.

"You awake?" John asked, and Rodney sighed and shifted in his arms.

"Yeah. Just thinking…."

"I thought so. The sound of you thinking is always deafening."

"At least there's something actually going on in my head which is more than can be said of most people," Rodney sniffed.

"Yeah, but when it's noisy it's usually crap. The good stuff tends to be silent," John said. Rodney frowned, wondering when John had got to know him so well.

"Well, regardless, I was *thinking* that I should be getting back to my own quarters."

"No rush," John murmured, squeezing him lightly. "Might as well stay until morning."

"Someone might see me," Rodney protested, but it was warm, and he liked the way John was holding him, so he didn't really want to move.

"So? How long do we have to keep our relationship quiet anyway?" John asked.

"Longer than one day, which is how long we've lasted so far!"

He heard John sigh behind him. "At least move some of your stuff in here," John told him. "A toothbrush, change of clothes, bathrobe…."

"You mean you'll actually let me wear a bathrobe? Won't that interfere with the whole being-naked thing?" Rodney asked in a mock-incredulous tone, and was rewarded for that by a little bite on the back of his neck.

"Move in," John said suddenly, taking Rodney by surprise. "I mean, move in properly – not just a toothbrush. All your stuff."

"What?" Rodney twisted in John's arms to find a pair of bright hazel eyes looking at him hopefully.

"I want you here, naked, every time I come home, Rodney," John told him. "I want to know I can touch you whenever I want. I want you within arm's reach all the time."

"I'm just down the hallway," Rodney said softly.

"You think I'll ever be able to sleep knowing you are just down the hallway and not in my bed?" John asked. "Seriously? I mean, after the couple of days we've just had? It's not just me, Rodney. You were the one who waylaid me in the transporter this afternoon. It's stupid to even pretend we're going to sleep apart from now on. We can still keep our relationship quiet – for as long as you want - but you might as well move in with me in the meantime."

Rodney gazed at John helplessly. His top's logic was sound enough, but Rodney felt a little knot of foreboding form in his stomach. This was the beginning of the end. There was no way in hell their relationship was going to survive them living together. John had no idea what he was taking on. Yet he couldn't think of a good reason to say no. So, in the end, he found himself nodding, and John grinned and kissed him on the mouth, and it was much easier to pretend he hadn't just sounded the death knell for them when he was being kissed so passionately. He could never think about anything when John was kissing him like this anyway.

Rodney returned to his quarters the following morning and gazed around the place. It was, he'd be the first to admit, a mess. That was another problem. John's quarters were military-neat, while Rodney's were scientist-untidy. There were books and papers and laptops strewn all around the room, to say nothing of discarded cups of coffee and the odd half-eaten donut. It was a mess, but it was *his* mess.

Rodney had never lived with a lover before and he didn't even know how it worked. He sat down on the side of the bed and buried his head in his hands. He didn't want to move. He *liked* his quarters damnit! They were convenient for the lab, and they were slightly larger than John's. He looked at the picture on his nightstand and sighed – John had a picture of his too-damn-perfect parents with their visibly shining love standing on his nightstand, while Rodney had a picture of his favourite cat, a big, long-haired tabby he'd had to leave behind on Earth when he'd left to come here.

Fluffy gazed back at him serenely, with big yellow eyes, completely oblivious to all his inner turmoil. Rodney missed his cat more than he missed his dead parents, or his estranged sister but even that said volumes about the impossibility of his relationship with John. John was someone who formed attachments to real, living, breathing people, while Rodney could honestly say that he missed Fluffy more than he missed any person back on Earth.

Rodney took a shower and got ready for work. He was about to walk to his lab when he got a call from Carson, who sounded very pleased with himself, asking him to report to the infirmary. He infuriatingly refused to answer any of Rodney's questions about why so Rodney trudged off in high dudgeon wondering what the hell could be so important.

"Well?" Rodney said when he arrived, glaring at a very bouncy looking Dr Beckett. "This had better be good, Carson because if you dragged me all the way down here just to tell me about your latest sex session with Ford then I won't be happy."

"You're never happy, Rodney, and when do I ever tell you about my sex life?" Carson said. Rodney frowned, but he had to admit the truth of that. He wandered over to a cage of white mice Carson kept in the lab. They weren't exactly anything like Fluffy, but Rodney had a soft spot for animals so he found himself smiling at them and poking his finger into the cage in the hopes of stroking a furry back. "I called you here because I believe you wanted to be the first to try the experimental gene therapy when it's ready?" Carson said.

Rodney managed to touch a pink nose, and he grinned. "Hey there, little fella," he crooned. "I do want to be the first," he said to Carson in the same breath. "But you've been working on that ATA thing for about 100 years so I'm not exactly…oh." He stood up straight and then turned, and saw the gleeful expression in Carson's eyes. "Oh shit. It's ready?"

"It is, yes. So…if you'd like to take a seat." Carson patted the infirmary bed and Rodney bounded over and leaped up to sit on it.

He'd longed to be able to activate the ancient technology that abounded in this city since he'd first arrived, and when they'd first got here it had frustrated him beyond measure that the city lit up wherever Colonel John Sheppard went, but remained resolutely silent and dark for *him*, the one person who understood her most, and knew her the best.

His resentment had faded somewhat in recent weeks, for obvious reasons, but it still glowed a little, deep inside. He rolled up his sleeve and then rolled his eyes as Carson took hold of his opposite arm, and rolled up that sleeve instead, and then tied a rubber strap around his arm and slapped his forearm far too heartily for Rodney's liking, to raise a vein.

"It's not dangerous is it?" he frowned, as Carson filled a syringe with a clear liquid from a vial.

"Well, we haven't exactly been able to get FDA approval," Carson began. Rodney eyed him suspiciously. "But I'm sure it's fine," Carson beamed.

"Wait a minute…" Rodney began, but he was too late, as Carson plunged the needle into his arm. Rodney held his breath, wondering if he was going to faint, or vomit, or come out in an ugly rash, or, worse, just expire on the spot, but he didn't feel a thing. "How long before we know if it works?" he asked, feeling a little disappointed by the lack of any dramatic response.

"A few hours," Carson said, still smiling that big smile. Rodney gazed at him, fighting an urge to tell Carson all his problems. Carson was his closest friend, and it felt weird keeping his relationship from John from him – and yet, he could hardly insist to John that they didn't tell anyone and then go and do just that. Still, he wished he could discuss his feelings with someone because they were driving him crazy, crashing around noisily inside his skull. "Is anything wrong, Rodney?" Carson said, frowning. "I thought you'd be excited about this."

"I am!" Rodney bounced off the bed. "Of course that's if it actually works and no offence, Carson, but it's not as if all that messing around with test tubes you do is an actual *science*."

"If you're going to insult me in my own infirmary then you can bugger off, laddie," Carson growled, still grinning.

Rodney did as he was told, examining the tiny pin prick in his arm as he went. Strange how he could take any number of bites during sex, or lovingly inflicted spankings, but be thrown into a state of total hypochondria by a needle mark.

Still, the thought of being able to use ancient technology excited him, and he walked eagerly back to his lab, thinking of things to test the new gene therapy on. At least this was a good distraction from all his worries about his relationship with John Sheppard, and the looming trauma of actually moving in with his new top.

 

~*~

 

"Throw me off the balcony!"

John stood there for a moment, gazing at his sub's gleeful face. Rodney looked ridiculously excited – he'd charged across the control room to intercept him on his way to Elizabeth's office, and was now grinning at him inanely having made his frankly bizarre request.

"It's tempting…but I think I'll pass," John replied.

"Shoot me then!" Rodney said, practically bouncing.

"Again, tempting, but I can think of several dozen things I'd prefer to be doing to you right now and none of them involve taking you to the infirmary," John said, shaking his head. "Now, if you want to ask me to spank you, I think I could manage *that*," he said. "And if you don't tell me what this is all about within the next ten seconds that's exactly what I'm gonna do."

Rodney was still grinning as he glanced around the busy room. Everybody was coming and going, and nobody was taking much notice of their conversation.

"*You*, Colonel I've-got-the-ancient-gene Sheppard, are no longer the only one around here who can make this place work – well, if you ignore Carson and I do because his gene isn't anywhere near as lively as yours. But, whatever, because I've got it now too! Carson injected me a few hours ago and it works! It works!"

Rodney did a happy dance and it was impossible for John not to laugh out loud. His sub looked so completely, ridiculously excited and full of himself. It was all John could do not to reach out and kiss him, but he was mindful of the fact that they were both on duty and the control room was bustling with people. Not that anyone would think it strange for a top to grab his sub and do any number of things to him in public, but Rodney had asked that they keep their relationship quiet and John had agreed to go along with that – for now at least.

"Well that's great, Rodney," John drawled. "I can see why you'd want me to throw you off the balcony in order to celebrate."

Rodney giggled, a sound that always went straight to John's heart. "You won't hurt me. Trust me," he said, pointing to a little green device stuck on his shirt. John gazed at it with a raised eyebrow. "It's Ancient technology – and I made it work all by myself with my new gene – well, technically it's *your* gene – weird to think of our DNA mingling - but anyway, *I* activated it."

"That's very exciting," John said, in a completely unexcited voice. "But I'm still not seeing why you want me to throw you over the balcony."

"It's a personal shield!" Rodney said gleefully, pointing at the green device again. "I already tried to stab myself, and then I got Radek to try to strangle me – something he agreed to far more readily that you I might add – and it's impossible! I'm fully protected!" He did another happy bounce. "So go on – shoot me!"

"Am I going to regret this?" John asked with a sigh. There was something so adorable about how excited Rodney was right now, his blue eyes shining, his feet incapable of standing still. John decided that he was rapidly turning into one of those tops so besotted by their subs that they were incapable of saying no to them.

"Nope!" Rodney shook his head, twirling his finger excitedly in the direction of John's gun. John drew the weapon, and pointed it, half-heartedly, at Rodney's leg.

"If I hurt you then you'll be in so much trouble your life won't be worth living," he said. Rodney just giggled and waved his arms around in a gesture of encouragement. John sighed again, and then squeezed the trigger. He half closed his eyes in dread, fearing that Rodney would fall down amid much howling, but instead, the bullet seemed to bounce off an invisible wall around his sub, leaving him completely unscathed. The bullet ricocheted harmlessly away and embedded itself in a nearby door.

"See! See!" Rodney hopped from one foot to the other in glee. "I'm Invulnerable! Nobody can touch me!"

John gazed at him thoughtfully for a moment, and then he broke into a grin as he realised how useful that could be. "Cool!" he said.

"*Now* will you throw me off the balcony?" Rodney asked, still dancing.

John grinned, because really, being with Rodney was many things but never, ever dull, and then he reached out a cautious hand towards his sub. His hand tingled as it made contact with the green forcefield, and it felt crackly, like he was touching electricity. He didn't even manage to touch Rodney's body, but by pushing, hard, against the forcefield, he managed to make Rodney topple backwards over the balcony. John looked over the edge, anxiously, just in time to see Rodney bounce harmlessly to a halt, thirty-odd feet below, completely unscathed. John ran down the stairs towards Rodney, at the same time as Elizabeth and Peter rushed up, concern etched on their faces.

"Rodney – are you okay? Colonel, what the hell were you thinking?" Elizabeth snapped, looking seriously pissed off. Rodney laughed out loud and started to do his happy dance again.

"It's okay – he didn't hurt me. Look, Beckett's gene therapy worked. I was able to activate this." He pointed at the glowing green device on his chest. "It's a, uh, personal shield. It acts like a protective skin and it must have inertial dampening properties too, because I didn't feel a thing!" he said. "Watch." He turned to Peter. "Hit me."

John stiffened – suddenly this whole playing around with the shield thing didn't seem like such a good idea, and he suppressed a low, involuntary growl as Peter did as Rodney had instructed. John felt a fierce protective instinct kicking in, and wanted to grab Peter and pound his face into the wall for daring to raise his hand against his sub, despite the fact that he knew this was just a game, and Rodney couldn't be harmed. A split second later, Peter's fist made contact with a bright green flash of light and he doubled over, clutching his hand.

"Oh god! Damnit that hurt!" he yelped, glaring at Rodney who was completely oblivious.

"You didn't have to swing so hard," Rodney said, grinning smugly. John thought for a moment about all those judicial spankings Peter had handed out to Rodney, and couldn't help but think that Rodney was enjoying this a little too much. "And notice he didn't even hesitate. He's as bad as Zelenka!"

Elizabeth looked a little amused by the fun her head scientist was having and John couldn't blame her – Rodney, in full happy sub mode would melt even the sternest top's heart.

"Very funny, Rodney, but I'm still trying to understand how you thought it was a good idea to test this device by having someone throw you off a balcony," she said, giving him a mock-severe look.

Rodney's grin widened. "Oh, believe me, that's not the first thing we tried – I got Colonel Sheppard to shoot me first."

"I would have expected better from you, Colonel," Elizabeth reprimanded, her eyes still sparkling. John grinned, shaking his head. They were always facing some disaster or another, and it felt good when they could laugh and joke around together for a change. This was one of the things he loved about Rodney – his sub was always the smartest guy in the room, but he had this childish side to him that chimed in well with John's own inner overgrown kid, and that made Rodney endlessly entertaining to be with.

"What can I say? He was very persuasive!" John rolled his eyes at Rodney.

"Also - invulnerable!" Rodney said, doing the happy dance again.

Elizabeth shook her head. "Aren't you the one who's always spouting off about how proper and careful scientific procedure must be adhered to?

"In-vul-nerable!" Rodney repeated in a sing-song tone.

Elizabeth laughed out loud. "Alright, take it off. Let's go have this meeting."

Rodney pouted, clearly unwilling to part with his new toy so soon, but the combined force of two tops gazing at him sternly was obviously too much for him, and he sighed, and reached for the shield…and then stopped as the forcefield around him flashed bright green. John frowned.

"This could be a problem," Rodney muttered, trying again. "I can't get at it."

He gazed helplessly at John, who felt a tide of anxiety rise in his belly. He stepped forward and reached for the shield too – only to find his path blocked by the forcefield. His hand tingled as he pushed harder, and he gave a low growl of frustration.

Rodney was gazing at him with horrified blue eyes. "Why can't I get it off?" he asked, panic-stricken. He tried to get his hand onto the device again but John could see that his way was completely blocked by the forcefield.

"I think that perhaps we need to take a trip to the infirmary," Elizabeth said.

"What good will that do?" Rodney asked. "This is a matter of technology – we can't expect Carson to mutter a few of his spells and incantations around me and for the damn thing to just drop off."

"Well, he might have some ideas – and apart from anything else, Peter's hand is going to need bandaging, courtesy of that dangerous new toy you've got there, Rodney," Elizabeth said, with a nod at where Peter was standing, still clutching his hand, a pained expression on his face. Rodney had the grace to look a little sheepish at that.

John walked along to the infirmary beside his sub, allowing Rodney's worried chatter to wash over him. He had worries of his own. He didn't like how this whole thing was panning out and he reached out to put a calming hand on Rodney's shoulder, to try and quieten his restless sub down, to be met by a mild flash of pain and the frustrating sizzle of the shield rebuffing his attempts to make physical contact. Rodney glanced up at him.

"You shouldn't do that," he said.

"Thank you, Rodney but clearly it was instinctive," John growled sarcastically, massaging his hand.

"It seems to respond to the degree of force," Rodney said, putting his scientist hat back on and musing on the issue authoritatively. "So a punch rebounds painfully, while a very slow, careful touch doesn't hurt at all - although it's still not possible to actually touch me. An unconscious touch like you just did probably just fizzes a bit."

"You're so lucky you're wearing that personal shield right now," John muttered darkly, his fingers itching to deliver a well-placed cuff to the back of his sub's head. Rodney gazed at him sideways from under his eyelashes.

"Sorry," he sighed, and all John's anger melted away again.

"We'll figure this out," he said firmly, because the alternative didn't bear thinking about.

John went and stood at the back of the infirmary, leaning against the wall, while Elizabeth explained the situation to Carson. Carson was so excited that the gene therapy worked that he didn't seem particularly concerned about Rodney's predicament. John kept quiet. He could feel all the muscles in his body tightening, and he didn't want to make anything worse by having an outburst right now. He wasn't even sure what was wrong with him, but everyone was treating this as if it was some kind of joke while he found the situation disturbing on some deep, dark level. He'd never had feelings like this before he'd fallen for Rodney, and he was still trying to figure them out.

So he just stood there, never taking his eyes off Rodney. It all felt so wrong. He had felt like this before, back when he'd watched Rodney being punished the first couple of times. The wrongness of it had eaten at him, because even back then, before they'd got together, he'd felt on some level that Rodney was *his* damnit. Nobody got to touch him except for him…and now, now nobody could touch Rodney at all, him included, and he found that just as frustrating.

Rodney was his sub, and John needed to touch him the way he needed to breathe. It wasn't just a sex thing – he wanted to put his hand on Rodney's shoulder, to kiss his sub's hair, to pull his sub's body against him and feel his skin against his own. It was more than just an urge – it felt like a biological imperative.

John remembered that flow of energy that seemed to pulse between them whenever their lovemaking was particularly intense, and he knew that on some level it was fed by their physical contact. If he couldn't touch Rodney then the flow was interrupted, and that made him feel queasy in the pit of his stomach. He wondered if Rodney felt the same, but Rodney looked preoccupied elsewhere at the moment.

"Um, just a thought here, but have you tried eating or drinking anything since you put that on? Peter asked, while Carson bandaged his hand. Rodney's eyes widened, and he grabbed a mug of coffee from the table and held it up to his lips. It flowed out onto the floor and Rodney stood there, his blue eyes horrified.

"This may be more serious than I suspected," Carson said, glancing at Elizabeth, and then at John, with a look of concern in his eyes. About damn time, John thought to himself. He still didn't trust himself to speak, and he noticed that Rodney was avoiding his eye.

"Why, thank you!" Rodney snapped. "I'm hungry already. What am I going to do? If I don't get this stupid thing off, I'll be dead by the end of the day."

"Relax," Carson told him. "You can live for three or four days without water."

"You mean I have to go without food for four long days before dying of thirst?" Rodney asked, tragically. Elizabeth gave a snort.

"Some Ancient technology uses a mental component for operation," Peter offered helpfully.

"Yes, yes it does!" Rodney snapped his fingers excitedly. "Shut up everyone! I'm thinking!"  
They all watched as Rodney screwed up his face and concentrated hard, but the device on his chest remained resolutely in place. "I'm a dead man," Rodney sighed, his shoulders falling into a dejected slump.

"Not so fast, Rodney," Elizabeth said. "I don't believe the Ancients would deliberately create a personal shield that would kill you, do you? It doesn't make any sense."

"It could be as a result of artificially imposing the gene," Carson said. "Damnit, maybe this is all my fault."

"Or maybe – it *does* require a mental component," Elizabeth mused. "And the reason it won't turn off is because Rodney doesn't really want it to."

"What do you mean? Of course I want it to!" Rodney protested. "I don't want to starve to death!"

"Rodney, we're way out here in a strange galaxy, in the middle of a battle with scary life-sucking aliens," Elizabeth told him. "You could be forgiven for not feeling safe. Maybe the shield is picking up on that, and *that* is why it won't deactivate."

"I don't think so," Rodney said. "I mean, yes to all that, but it's not like I lie awake at night worrying about the Wraith. They're not on my mind the whole time."

"Is there anything else that's worrying you?" Carson asked. "Anything that you feel you need protecting from?"

Rodney hesitated, and for just a split second his gaze flickered in John's direction; John felt as if he'd been physically punched in the gut.

"No," Rodney said softly. "I can't think of anything."

John started walking, his legs working on automatic. There was no way in hell he was going to hang around here a second longer. He needed to get out, needed to get some damn air in his lungs because he was finding it hard to breathe right now.

He got into the hallway and started running and that felt better, the way it always did. He ran back to his quarters, burst inside, locked the door, and then opened his window and stepped out onto the balcony, taking long, deep gulps of air, trying to get control of himself. All he could think about was the expression in Rodney's eyes for that split second he'd looked at him, and his stomach churned. He heard a sound behind him and whirled around, annoyed, knowing he'd locked the door, and he saw Rodney standing there, a scared look on his face.

"How did you get in?" John snarled.

"You, uh…programmed the door to let me in, remember?" Rodney said, taking a step towards him.

"I can see why that would scare you enough to feel you need Ancient protection," John said sarcastically. Rodney stopped in his tracks, and winced.

"It's not like that," he protested.

"I have never forced a sub in my life!" John yelled, losing what last degree of control he had. "I've done nothing to you – nothing – that would make you feel you needed to be protected from me."

"You're getting it all wrong…" Rodney said, flustered.

"I thought you trusted me! You said you trusted me. How many more goddamn lies were you telling me, Rodney? Were you just using me to keep Bates away?"

"No." Rodney's face was pinched and white, and his mouth settled into that thin line and his jaw jutted out the way it always did when he was refuting something. "I *do* trust you, John. You have to believe that."

"Yeah – that would explain why you need *this* to keep me at bay," John said, gesturing at the device on Rodney's chest, his voice half-way between a bitter laugh and a low growl.

"It's not you I don't trust. It's me," Rodney said quietly, and that punctured John's mood, just as he was about to launch into another tirade.

"What?"

"It's me." Rodney sat down on the side of the bed, still white-faced, his fingers moving nervously, more restless than John had ever seen them. "I don't trust me. I don't trust myself not to screw this – us – up, John. I've never had a relationship before, and suddenly you appear out of nowhere and you want me in a way nobody has ever wanted me before. Damnit you even want to live with me."

John took a deep breath, and then another one, and felt himself starting to calm down.

"If you didn't want to move in then you only had to say so," he muttered.

"I wanted to please you," Rodney whispered pathetically. "I just can't see any way this can work."

John felt that knot of anxiety form in the pit of his stomach again. "Why the hell not?" he demanded.

"Because of them!" Rodney pointed at the picture of Adam and Gil on the nightstand. John shook his head, frowning.

"What the hell have my parents got to do with this?"

"Everything! They stand there in their bright, shiny love, smiling out at the world with beneficence, perfect in their loving lifebond, and they're your bloody role model for relationships!" Rodney snapped. "I can't live up to that. I'm messy and difficult and people don't like me – which is fine because I don't like people much. I'll be crap in terms of your career. Can you imagine introducing me to some stupid bigwig General? If he was an imbecile I'd tell him so – and you could wave goodbye to whatever promotion you had your heart set on. I could take you anywhere and you'd charm the pants off everyone but it isn't the same the other way around, and you know it. I'm not the kind of sub that tops like you end up with, and that hurts damnit because I like you, and I want to end up with you. It's just never going to work."

Rodney raised his chin defiantly, and gazed at John. John stared back at him, completely winded.

"And you were going to tell me all this when?" he asked quietly.

"I don't know. Probably after we broke up," Rodney said. "Or, more likely, during actually breaking up. I'd get drunk and insult your parents, and we'd have a big argument, and I'd give you all the reasons why it wasn't going to work anyway and walk out."

"You were thinking this all the time? When we were making love…." John shook his head, unable to take that in.

"Not when we were making love, no," Rodney replied. "Because mainly when we were making love all I was thinking was 'mmmmm' and 'oh god'. I was thinking it in those few seconds over the past couple of days when we haven't been rutting like rabbits."

"If you felt like that then why were you with me at all? It wasn't all just about sex for you. I know that," John told him. "Nobody could fake the way you reacted when I took you that first time, you least of all, with that terrible poker face you have."

"It wasn't just about the sex, no," Rodney sighed. "The sex was fantastic and stopped me being able to think straight. If I'd been thinking straight I'd have known it wasn't ever going to work."

There was silence for a moment. John gazed at his hands, trying to get his head around all this. A few hours ago he'd been happier than he'd ever been in his life – and now…now he thought it was entirely possible that he was angrier than he'd ever been in his life.

"You're wrong about my parents. They would have liked you," John said eventually.

Rodney snorted. "They would have hated me. Their precious only son, their golden boy with the big, bright military career, falling for a cranky, opinionated scientist."

"They just wanted me to be happy." John shrugged and sat down on the chair opposite Rodney.

"You're presuming I can make you happy. I can't," Rodney told him firmly.

"You're presuming I don't know exactly what you're like and what I'm getting into. I do," John replied, equally firmly.

Rodney shook his head, and that make John feel even angrier for some reason.

"You want me to make this easy for you?" he snapped. "You want me to back off so that you feel safe enough for that shield to drop off? So you can go back to leading that lonely, fucked-up life you were leading before I came along? Well, I'm sorry, Rodney, but it's not going to work like that. I accept that you trust me. I also accept that you have zero expectations of relationships because your parents lived such a fucked-up existence, but that doesn't have to ruin your life. I trust you, Rodney. You say all the wrong things but do all the right things. I have trust enough for both of us, and I trust you not to screw up what we have."

Rodney gazed at him, looking startled.

"You still want me?" he said. "I mean, even after insulting…" he nodded with his head in the direction of the photo on the nightstand. John rolled his eyes.

"Oh for god's sake – one argument doesn't mean a damn thing. You're my sub, and I love you, and while I might be mad as hell with you right now there is no way I'm giving up on us this easily."

"Really?

"Really." John stood up. "But I can't be around you while you're wearing that shield, Rodney, because I swear that seeing you and not being able to touch you is screwing with my mind."

He felt his hands curl into fists at his side. He wanted to grab Rodney, and kiss some sense into him, and he knew that if he could do it, then it would work, but he also knew that it was a short-term solution. Rodney's self-doubt would always come back to haunt them both unless he dealt with it now, once and for all.

"You have to figure this out for yourself. I can't do it for you. Somehow you have to learn to trust yourself enough to give this a try, or you have to end it. And it would seem that you have about four days to figure out which it's gonna be. No pressure." John gave an ironic little half-smile, and then started walking towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Rodney asked, a note of panic in his voice.

"Anywhere you're not," John told him firmly.

"John…wait - I'm sorry." Rodney hopped after him and reached out a hand, and John felt that now familiar fizz from the personal shield, obstructing any physical contact.

"I want you, Rodney," he said, fiercely, turning and glaring at his sub. "I want you right now. I want to grab you and kiss you but I can't, and that makes me so angry that I can't be around you. You have no idea what it's like for me – you're my *sub*. You're mine and I want to touch you. I don't mean sex, although hell, that's been damn good between us – the best I've ever had. But I mean touching you. Just…doing this…."

He held up his hand and reached out, his fingers caressing the air just to the side of Rodney's head, the forcefield flashing green under his fingertips.

"It feels…wrong." He fought down a powerful sensation of dislocation, of something being so wrong that it physically hurt. "Don't you feel it too?" he said and Rodney nodded, a scared look in his eyes. "Remember sometimes when we make love? That…*thing* that happens between us, like there's some kind of umbilical cord connecting us to each other, and some kind of energy flows along it, warm and sweet like honey, back and forth?" Rodney nodded again, his eyes as wide as saucers. "Well, right now it feels like that cord has been blocked, and none of that energy can get through. That makes me feel like I have an open wound in my belly, and seeing you and not being able to touch you is like having a knife twisted in that wound. Do you understand now?"

Rodney bit on his lip, and nodded again.

"Good. Because this is about what's going on in your head, not mine. So figure it out, Rodney," John told him, in a low, brusque tone, and with that he slammed his hand on the door sensor, then stalked out into the hallway, leaving Rodney behind.

 

~*~


	13. Shadows

Rodney stood in the doorway, gazing after John until he was long gone. Only the rumbling of his stomach finally roused him, and he glared at the little green device on his chest, hating it.

"I'm starving," he told it reproachfully. "And I've just pissed off the best thing that ever happened to me and both of those things are your fault."

He went and sat down on the bed, needing to think this through – which would have been easier if he wasn't so damn hungry.

He honestly hadn't meant to let John think he was responsible for the shield – he was the best top Rodney had ever known but then that was part of the problem. Rodney had never expected to fall in love, and it didn't fit into the plans he'd always had for himself and his life. He simply had no frame of reference for it – he didn't even know what he was feeling, just that he was extremely confused. And now, to make things worse, he either had to decide he was in the relationship or end it – because the only alternative was starving to death and he wasn't particularly keen on that as an option.

Rodney glanced around the room – it was so neat and tidy – so *John*, with the Johnny Cash poster hanging on the wall, and the copy of 'War and Peace' on the nightstand, next to the photo of John's parents. Rodney wondered what, apart from fantastic sex, he and John had in common. He had no interest in Tolstoy and had never listened to a Johnny Cash song in his life. Besides, he was a scientist and John was in the military – although even Rodney had to concede that John was surprisingly smart for a knucklehead.

"I do want him," he told the shield, gazing at it pathetically. It didn't even fade the tiniest bit. Rodney sighed. "How can I convince you?" he asked it.

He remembered what John had said about that warm, sweet energy that flowed between them when they were having sex, and he knew exactly what John meant about it being interrupted now they were no longer able to touch. His fingers longed to feel John's skin again – but somehow that wasn't enough to overcome his inner fears.

Rodney decided to do what he did best in any circumstances relating to his emotional life – he went back to work, and tried to ignore it. It was impossible to ignore his physical condition though – he was hungry and thirsty, and he was dreading his hypoglycaemia kicking in.

He gave up after an hour or so – his brain was too fuzzy to work, and he kept making mistakes. He had to *do* something. He wandered along the hallway to the rest room where his lab staff often went to take coffee breaks; he could at least smell the coffee even if he couldn't taste it.

He found Miko sitting there, sipping a cup of green tea while flipping through some schematics on her laptop. One of her subs, a sweet, pretty botanist who he thought was called Katie Brown, was kneeling at Miko's feet, reading a magazine.

Miko gazed up at him with adoring brown eyes as he entered. She seemed to have some kind of a crush on his brain, Rodney had decided – she always looked at him dotingly whenever he was being particularly brilliant, and he enjoyed it far too much to discourage it. He had occasionally wondered how someone so seemingly meek and mild could be such a demon top that she had attracted three subs, but it was well known around the base that she had two botanists and one marine in her little harem. She'd earned herself the nickname 'Dragon Lady' as a result, and she did have a very fine pair of shiny PVC boots Rodney thought to himself, admiring them in passing as he went to stand and inhale the coffee.

Rodney glanced at Katie while he stood there. She seemed very content in her submission, and occasionally Miko would reach out a hand and stroke her sub's shiny auburn hair, and Katie would lower her head and bestow a little lick on her top's shiny boots. It was really quite sweet. Rodney's gaze turned to the magazine that Katie was reading – it looked like one of those trashy rags that he generally despised, obsessed with sex and how to get the top or sub of your dreams into bed and keep them there. Rodney had little interest in that kind of nonsense, but right now he was a desperate man, faced with a whole new world of complex emotional relationships - and as this magazine seemed utterly obsessed with just that topic he found himself craning his head to take a look over her shoulder.

"Top Ten Tips to Tease Your Top!" screamed the header. Rodney winced.

"I think there's such a thing as too much alliteration," he muttered. Katie glanced up at him, startled. "Although…" Rodney turned his head on one side. "Is that even anatomically possible?" he asked.

"Dr McKay would like to read, yes?" Miko inclined her head at the magazine. "Katie, please allow the great doctor to have your magazine," she ordered. Katie handed it over, smiling, looking as if nothing pleased her more than obeying her top's every command, even if that did mean surrendering her magazine.

"No, that's okay, I was just looking," Rodney said quickly, but it was too late. Miko was going into one of her elaborate bowing rituals, and it would have offended her if he'd refused. Katie genuinely didn't seem to mind - and he could always return the magazine to her later. So Rodney took the magazine with a sigh, tried to make the appropriate bowing gestures in return, and then turned and fled. He took the magazine back to his quarters – if nothing else it might be a good source of distraction, and he didn't want anyone to catch him reading it.

"Subs in a spin – how to tell if your sub needs taking down," he read. "Oh for god's sake! Who writes this drivel?" He kept on reading anyway, seeking enlightenment. "Oh god, these people give subs a bad name," he sighed, after reading one article too many. "And the tops aren't much better."

He found an article entitled, "Learning to love a stern top." It told the story of someone called Simon who loved his top, Denise, outside of the bedroom but found her too strict during sex. It all ended happily with Simon learning to embrace his submission, and Denise rewarding him with seemingly endless amounts of hot sex. Rodney turned the page, irritated beyond belief.

The advice column wasn't much better. "Oh for god's sake! These aren't real problems!" Rodney berated the magazine. "How about something useful, like: Dear Cosmo, I'm a genius, I live in another galaxy, and I currently have about four days to live unless I can figure out my fucked up feelings. Please advise." Rodney made a face. "Yeah, somehow I don't think you've ever come across that one before."

He threw the magazine onto the floor – it was making his stomach churn and he didn't want to add to his stomach's problems. The lights flickered. and Rodney glanced up, frowning, wondering if there was a problem with the power supply, but he didn't have a chance to investigate further because at that moment the door chimed. Rodney opened it – and his stomach lurched when he found John standing there.

"Can I come in?" John asked, in a strained voice. Rodney nodded, and stood to one side. "I'm sorry about earlier. I was…" John's gaze fell on the magazine. "Cosmo? You're reading Cosmo?" he asked, with an ironically raised eyebrow.

"Ha ha, yes, very funny," Rodney said sourly, booting the offending magazine under the bed so it was out of sight. "A copy of it came into my hands, and I thought it might have some advice."

"Really?" John made a face, and Rodney sighed.

"Yes, that's how desperate I am," he replied forlornly.

"And did it?" John looked like he was trying hard not to laugh.

"Nope. It's mainly obsessed with things you can do in bed, and seeing as the sex between us is pretty damn fantastic already it's not much help. Although if I ever do get this thing off my chest then there's something really hot I can do to you involving whipped cream. Apparently."

"I can't wait." John grinned, and then his expression changed. "So, no luck with the shield then?"

"No." Rodney shrugged.

"Right." John stood there for a moment. "Look, Rodney, what I said earlier – I was angry. This problem isn't just yours – it's mine too, and if there's anyway I can help then I will."

"I know that," Rodney said softly. "But thanks."

"Usually after a big argument there's great make-up sex but…" John nodded at the personal shield, and made a helpless gesture with his arms.

"Yeah." Rodney gave a wan smile.

He sat down wearily at the table, feeling weak. Damnit he wanted to have something to eat, and he wanted to have sex, and he would quite happily do both at the same time if only he could. John sat down beside him.

"I've never read Tolstoy," Rodney told him. John gazed at him quizzically, and then realisation set in.

"Oh. Neither have I," he said. "I just brought that book along for something to read. I haven't got beyond page seventeen yet. You know, I was thinking – this whole thing is about honesty, Rodney. You don't want to move in with me – that's fine. I was just thinking it'd be more convenient but it freaked you out. I don't mind if you're not there yet. I just need you to be honest with me about whatever you're thinking and feeling."

"Sounds like a plan." Rodney nodded, and then gazed at his shield expectantly. "Still not working though," he said, when the shield continued to glow greenly in response.

John glanced around the room. "Man, you *are* messy," he said, with a wry grin. "So, that's another reason for not rushing into this. In fact, I'd kind of appreciate it if you took your time."

Rodney gave a snort.

"You know – this whole thing with the shield might be for the best," John told him. Rodney raised a disbelieving eyebrow. "What I mean is – we've been having a lot of great sex but maybe at the expense of talking."

"Oh god. You've been reading that magazine haven't you?" Rodney sighed, rolling his eyes in the general direction of the bed. "It's obsessed with communication. Did you know that Simon learned to love his submission once he had a conversation with Denise about helping him find his subspace? Up until then he'd faked it, and she'd been waving her whip around too hard too soon so sex was becoming an ordeal for him. But once they sat down and talked about it they lived happily ever after."

"There see – so it's not impossible," John grinned. "Living happily ever after I mean," he murmured softly. Rodney sighed, and rested his hand on the table, thrumming lightly with his fingers.

"I don't know," he said.

"I do." John put his hand on the table beside Rodney's, as close as it could go. The forcefield glowed green. Rodney gazed at that hand, longing for real, physical contact, wanting John so much that it hurt but it made no difference –the shield remained resolutely switched on.

At that moment Rodney's radio buzzed, and he reached up a hand to activate it.

"Rodney – we've got some strange power fluctuations in the city," Peter told him.

"Where are they coming from?" Rodney got up, glancing at John who fell into step beside him as they made for the door.

"They started on the lower level about half an hour ago, and since then…."

"Half an hour ago – I noticed the lights flickering in my quarters. What else happened half an hour ago?" Rodney demanded, reaching the end of the hallway, and taking the stairs two at a time.

"What do you mean?" Peter asked. Rodney reached the control room, and vaulted over a crouching technician to reach Peter's work station…then held onto the console, wishing he hadn't done that as his head swam. John reached out a hand to steady him, but couldn't do anything other than hover nearby, arm outstretched, unable to touch Rodney.

"I mean…" Rodney said, when he regained his balance, "that if the power started fluctuating half an hour ago then it's very likely that something *happened* half an hour ago to cause it. Radek?" He tapped his radio and Radek's voice sounded in his ear.

"I know, I know! There are power fluctuations - but it is not anything we are working on down here!" Radek told him.

"Nobody's working on something that could have caused this?" Rodney asked, frowning.

"No," Radek assured him. Rodney turned to John.

"What about your people? What have they been doing today?" he asked.

"Well, I sent Hicks out with his team to explore the east section of the city. We haven't been in all the rooms over there yet, and I wanted to check them out."

"Did they come back okay?" Rodney asked.

"Fine. They reported in just before I came to see you."

"But they're marines so I expect they blundered around the place, opening doors and boxes and…oh shit. Get Hicks up here and ask him if he opened any boxes," Rodney snapped.

"They're under strict instructions not to open anything without a scientist being present," John said. "It was just a recon mission."

"Yeah, well, no offence, Colonel, but they're not exactly the smartest circuits in the system so who knows if they even understood the order," Rodney growled.

John gave Rodney the faintest hint of a glare but tapped on his radio all the same, while Rodney sat at the workstation, his hands moving at the speed of light over the console.

"Power outages are occurring all over the city but they seem to be linked to massive energy dips in the lower eastern part of the city," Rodney said, a few minutes later.

He glanced up, to see Hicks coming to stand smartly to attention in front of John. There was a little flush on Hicks's pale skin, and he gazed at his commanding officer with a look of abject adoration that made Rodney's blood boil.

"What the hell did you do down there?" he demanded of the young man, more annoyed about the way Hicks was looking at John than the fact that he suspected the idiot had screwed up his beloved city.

"Uh…we just followed orders. We looked in the rooms to see if the Ancients left anything around but mainly we're still just mapping," Hicks stammered, glancing at Rodney fearfully. Rodney glowed a little – he liked it when the marines were scared of him, and he especially liked that Hicks was scared of him – if he looked at John like that again then he'd have *reason* to be scared of him.

"Did you open anything – or even just move anything?" Rodney asked. Hicks hesitated. "Come on, quickly – we've got a crisis here which is almost certainly of your making." Rodney snapped his fingers, unsettling the marine, whose face went a deeper shade of crimson red.

"Uh, I'll take it from here, Rodney," John said, shooting him a look. "It's okay, Hicks. We don't know if you caused this problem or not - we just need to get to the bottom of it," he said soothingly. Rodney rolled his eyes.

"We did move some boxes yes, sir. I don't think we opened anything – if we did then it was by accident but I recall that we did knock over some storage containers by mistake so it's possible…."

"Aha. As I thought," Rodney announced grimly. Hicks looked as if he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him.

"Alright," John tapped on his radio. "Teyla and Ford meet me down on the lower east side. Hicks – you're with me."

"What – you're going down there?" Rodney said, feeling panicked. "And with *him*?"

John raised an eyebrow, and Rodney flushed and shrugged. "Okay. Fine. But, you know. Watch your back. You don't know what might be down there." He gave Hicks a vicious glare as he said that, and the sergeant stumbled backwards slightly from the force of it. Rodney gave a triumphant little smile and turned back to his work.

"And take a camera with you," he shouted after them. "Send me back live footage. I'll see if I can get the power grid working again from here."

Rodney turned his attention back to the console, working hard to see if he could track down the source of the fluctuations. Something, somewhere, seemed to be literally sucking the power dry, and two of the naquada generators on the lower east side were already completely drained of energy.

A few minutes later he started receiving the pictures John and Hicks were sending back. It was creepy watching the camera pan cautiously down the dark, lower hallways. Rodney worked on the power grid manically, one eye on the footage that was being sent back.

John had sent Teyla and Ford up to the higher levels, while he and Hicks continued to explore the lower levels, and for awhile there was nothing, just the sounds of the two men walking…and then, suddenly, the screen became a blur of motion.

"Hicks…move! Shit…move, move…what *is* that?" John's voice.

Rodney looked up sharply, his heart suddenly in his mouth. He saw a massive, moving black shadow filling the screen, and then he heard the sound of someone screaming. Both the camera and radio went dead at the same time.

"Colonel Sheppard? John?!" Rodney called, but there was no reply – only static from the radio. Rodney was barely aware he was moving yet suddenly found himself running full pelt across the control room in the direction of the nearest transporter. "Get Carson down there. Now!" he yelled at Peter as he ran.

Rodney didn't even think about the weird black shadow creature he'd seen just before the footage went dead. He wasn't thinking about anything except John as he ran out of the transporter on the lower east level, and down the hallways towards their last known destination. He rounded a corner, and came to a skidding halt as he saw two bodies lying on the ground at one end of the hallway. He walked slowly towards them, his heart pounding in his chest, less afraid that the black shadow creature might still be lurking nearby than that John might be dead.

"John," he whispered as he got close. One of the men moved, moaning softly, and Rodney hurried along the last section of the hallway to see who it was. The moaning man turned out to be Hicks - his pale skin was now a dark red, as if he'd suffered some kind of extreme sunburn, but he didn't look injured apart from that. Rodney barely spared him a glance as he went on towards the other, silent figure.

"John?" Rodney knelt down beside his top. John was out cold, his face un-naturally pale, and Rodney couldn't even tell if he was breathing. One outstretched hand was as burned as Hicks was. Rodney tapped on his radio, urgently. "Carson – where the hell are you?" he demanded.

"On our way – we'll be there in a few minutes. What's the damage?" Carson asked.

"It's Sheppard – he's down and I can't tell if he's breathing," Rodney said desperately.

"Take his pulse – if he's not breathing administer CPR," Carson told him, and then the radio went dead.

Carson had clearly forgotten about his current predicament. Rodney glanced at the shield on his chest, and then at John, lying there, possibly dead, and needing medical assistance fast. Rodney didn't even hesitate. He reached out a hand towards John's neck, and the shield winked out immediately and fell off his chest to land harmlessly on the floor. Rodney found a pulse - strong and steady - and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"You're not dead so wake up, damn you," he said, cradling John's head in his hands. John's eyelids fluttered open, and he gazed around, blankly, and then his hazel eyes fixed on Rodney, and he gave a wry grin.

"Hey," he muttered. "What happened?"

"You had a fight with a weird, energy-sucking, black shadow thing," Rodney told him. "You lost."

"Yeah. Feels that way. Hicks?" John sat up, with a wince.

"He's down too but he's moving so I guess he'll be okay. Your hide must be thicker than his because he's looking like he just spent ten hours in the desert without sunscreen, while you actually look kind of pale," Rodney frowned.

"I went down and knocked my head – that thing, whatever it was, just winged me but it completely enveloped Hicks," John said, trying to move towards the sergeant. He went even paler, and stopped, then retched onto the floor.

"You said you knocked your head?" Rodney grabbed John's head and dug his fingers in, searching for a wound.

"Ow – shit, Rodney, that hurts. And…is there something you wanted to tell me?"

John glanced at Rodney's chest, now without the personal shield, and then up at Rodney, a broad grin on his face. Rodney rolled his eyes.

"Carson said you might need CPR," he admitted feebly. "Hard to do that if you can't touch someone."

"Aw. You were worried about me. You love me," John told him, still grinning inanely. "Admit it."

"I was simply concerned that my only source of hot sex was about to expire," Rodney replied with a snort. John just continued grinning at him. "Oh shut up," Rodney said, grabbing the fallen shield and stuffing it into his pocket.

At that moment Carson appeared with what appeared to be half the base's medical staff, and Rodney was pushed out of the way. He took a step back, still hovering anxiously, and ran straight into a somewhat belated Ford and Teyla.

"Where the hell were you two?" Rodney snapped at them.

"The creature trapped us in the upper levels," Teyla told him, glancing anxiously over his shoulder at John. "Is the colonel going to be alright?"

"Well he's breathing and talking but beyond that I have no idea," Rodney replied, still glaring at them. He turned back and forced his way into the melee around his top. Carson was busy loading the two injured men onto gurneys, and Rodney didn't even get close enough to touch John.

"I'm fine," John told him, over Carson's shoulder. "And we do still have a crisis situation, Rodney. Go do your job."

Rodney glared at him for a moment, but John didn't seem to be in any immediate danger so he reluctantly returned to the control room, to try and figure out a way to trap the energy-hungry black shadow that was currently stalking the Atlantean hallways.

 

~*~

 

John submitted to Carson's attention for just long enough to satisfy the doctor that no permanent damage had been done, and to find out that Hicks was going to be okay, and then he ran out of the infirmary. He didn't like hanging around when there was the possibility that his city – and his sub – were both in danger.

"Where are we at?" he asked, arriving in the control room to find Elizabeth, Rodney and Peter standing there, having an urgent discussion.

"This thing, whatever it is, was kept in a containment box," Rodney told him, speaking even faster than usual. "The Ancients clearly knew it was dangerous so they kept it nicely locked up for ten thousand years and that's where it would have stayed if your men hadn't released it. Right now it's having a feeding frenzy on our systems."

"So shut them down," John said.

"Humans emit energy too," Elizabeth said softly. "If we shut down the systems it'll come after us."

"And, as it's getting stronger from all the power its consumed, I can assure you that the next person who tangles with it won't just end up with a bad case of sunburn or a mild concussion," Rodney said, in an exasperated tone.

"So we thought we'd try and lure it here, and send it through the stargate," Peter added.

"Which is a bad idea on many levels," Rodney said, rolling his eyes.

"Do you have a better idea?" John asked.

"No. Which is why we're going with the bad one." Rodney nodded his head at the M.A.L.P standing in front of the stargate. "We've loaded that up with a naquada generator to attract it here. We're going to shut down the other systems and try and get it to chase after that onto a barren world."

"Okay. Let's get to it people," Elizabeth said. "Rodney – dial up the stargate."

John pressed a button on the M.A.L.P to set it moving and then he chased up the stairs after the others, and watched as the black shadow entity filled the room below.

The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end as he sensed the sizzle of power that the thing below was emitting. There was something so all-encompassing about that inky blackness, and it was now three times the size it had been when he'd met it in the hallway earlier. Now it had gorged itself on even more naquada energy, and was pulsating as it undulated across the room towards the M.A.L.P. and completely enveloped it. The M.A.L.P, which had been trundling towards the gate, suddenly stopped moving.

"Oh no," Rodney said. "Oh shit. That thing could be feeding off the generator, or off the Stargate. I mean, this is a disaster."

John watched, helpless, as the black shadow creature swelled. If it *was* feeding off the stargate then it would bleed the city dry, and then they'd be well and truly screwed.

He was so lost in this train of thought that he didn't notice Rodney taking the shield out of his pocket, sticking it on his chest, and activating it. The darkness had spread so far by this point that the first he realised what was happening was when he caught a glimpse of his sub walking down the stairs, a stubborn set to his shoulders.

"Rodney!" John yelled, running out of the control room, and towards the encroaching darkness, but he was too late, and could only watch as Rodney walked into the darkness, the green forcefield flickering around him. John wasn't a scientist but he doubted Rodney would have long before that creature sucked all the energy out of the shield.

He ran down the stairs, and was dimly able to make out Rodney grabbing the naquada generator from the M.A.L.P and throwing it through the open stargate. The black shadow followed the generator through and someone, presumably Peter, closed the gate immediately behind it.

As the darkness lifted, the first thing John saw was Rodney, lying on the floor, pale and lifeless, and John felt his stomach clench. He gasped for air, and then struggled to run the remaining few steps to his sub's side.

"Rodney." John crouched down beside his sub and rested a gentle hand against Rodney's throat. "Damnit, Rodney, wake up so I can tan your hide for doing something so stupid," he hissed in an undertone.

Rodney didn't move, and John looked around, seeking help. Elizabeth and Peter reached them, and Elizabeth crouched down beside Rodney and touched the shield on Rodney's chest. John bit back a low growl.

"The power must have been drained by the entity," Peter said grimly.

John couldn't take his eyes off Rodney, still lying there, his face pale. He reached up and slammed his hand onto his radio. "Carson, get a medical team to the gateroom. NOW!" he yelled.

"It's okay. He's not burned. He's breathing," Elizabeth said softly. "Rodney?"

Rodney opened his eyes, and John knelt back on his heels, struggling with the strength of the emotions coursing through his body.

"What happened?" Rodney muttered.

"You did it," Elizabeth told him, smiling down at him. "It went through the gate."

"You passed out," Peter told him. "Being brave and heroic exhausted you."

"Ha ha," Rodney muttered, getting to his feet. Peter reached out a hand to steady Rodney's elbow, and John growled again. "I'm fine," Rodney said, shaking off Peter's hand. "Just a bit dizzy."

John just stood there, trying to get himself under control. His feelings were spiralling away from him, and he felt crowded out.

"I'll take him to the infirmary," he said, in a low tone, just barely holding onto his emotions. Elizabeth shot him a surprised look.

"Carson's on his way," she reminded him.

"So call him and tell him to go back. I'll bring Rodney to him," John said, just wanting to get his sub out from here, to get him alone and away from all these enquiring faces and people who seemed to think it was okay to maul him.

John struggled to get a grip on himself but he realised he was fighting a losing battle while all these people were around. He needed to have Rodney to himself, to satisfy himself that his sub was okay.

He took hold of Rodney's arm, and helped him down the stairs and away from the gate room. He didn't trust himself to speak to his sub – all he could think about was how Rodney had looked, pale and lifeless, lying on the floor, and how, for a couple of minutes, he'd thought he was dead. John tightened his grasp on Rodney's arm, and Rodney gazed up at him, a puzzled look in his blue eyes.

"That hurts," he said. John loosened his grip a fraction. "I'm okay," Rodney said. John just shook his head, still unable to speak. "John…I'm fine. I just passed out. I don't even need to see Carson," Rodney told him.

"You'll see Carson," John growled.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Rodney demanded.

John closed his eyes momentarily, and saw Rodney running away from him into an inky black darkness, and he couldn't find a reply.

They reached the infirmary to find Carson waiting for them, an anxious look on his face.

"Are you okay, Rodney?" he asked.

"I'm fine. I was incredibly brave and noble though," Rodney told him.

"Elizabeth told me you walked straight into that creature," Carson said. "That IS pretty brave and noble, Rodney."

John stood there, his hand still gripping Rodney's arm tightly, unwilling to ever let his sub go again.

"Uh, Colonel Sheppard – if I'm going to examine Rodney you'll need to let go of his arm," Carson said.

The words somehow penetrated the fog that was enveloping John's brain, and he took a deep breath, and forced himself to release his grip on Rodney's arm.

"I could have died!" Rodney said proudly to Carson. "I mean, yes, I had the personal shield, but I knew I didn't have long before that thing sucked all the power out of it."

"You're truly a hero, laddie," Carson said, rolling his eyes slightly in John's direction.

"I had no idea whether the shield would protect me at all!" Rodney babbled. Carson grinned at him.

"Come and sit on the bed, Rodney, and let me see if there's been any damage," he said, and as he spoke, he reached out a hand and cupped Rodney's elbow, guiding him over to the bed.

It was all too much for John. He'd had to endure the distress of not being able to touch Rodney while he'd been wearing that damn shield, and then he'd been forced to watch his sub almost die, and people had been standing over Rodney, casually putting their hands on him as if they owned him, and now…now Carson was touching him without even looking in John's general direction to make sure that was okay. John's emotions spilled over to the point where he couldn't control them any more.

"Get your damn hands off him!" he snarled, grabbing hold of Carson and throwing him back against the wall.

"Easy, laddie," Carson gasped, John's hand tight around his throat. "It's okay. I'm just going to examine him."

"John? What the hell are you doing?" Rodney's eyes swam into his field of vision, blue and shocked, and it was like someone had poured cold water over him.

John released Carson, and then turned and ran out of the infirmary. He made it to the south-west pier and then stopped, leaned over the balcony, and threw up into the water below. He spilled his guts and then sprawled back against the wall, breathing heavily. He had to get himself under control. This was ridiculous.

Carson didn't know he was Rodney's top – there was no reason why he'd think to ask John's permission to touch him. And this wasn't about Carson anyway. This was about Rodney, about nearly losing Rodney, about the rollercoaster that had been the past day.

John reached into his vest and took out a canteen of water. He swilled some around his mouth and spat it out, and then took another deep, satisfying gulp and swallowed it down.

Rodney barrelled onto the balcony a few seconds later, blue eyes blazing.

"I thought I'd find you here. What the hell was that about?" he demanded. "What were you thinking? Carson is our friend, and a damn good one. Why the hell did you…." He trailed off and his eyes softened as he got a good look at John. "Shit you look bad," he murmured, coming to stand in front of his top.

"I'm sorry." John doubled over and held onto his stomach, which was still roiling with emotion.

"Hey, it's okay. John? What's all this about?" John felt Rodney's warm arms encircle his body and the lurching in his stomach eased off a fraction. "Is this because I was dumb enough to walk into that thing?" Rodney asked, bestowing a little kiss on the side of John's neck.

John wrapped his arms around Rodney's body, feeling the pressure inside ease off even more as he was anchored by that firm, solid flesh.

"Nope. Yeah. Maybe a bit," he muttered. "I thought you were dead," he whispered into Rodney's neck.

"Well join the club. When I found you in that hallway earlier I thought *you* were dead," Rodney snorted.

"You should have told me what you were planning to do," John told him.

"I didn't know what I was planning to do!" Rodney protested. "Planning is over-stating it anyway. There wasn't much planning. It was more of a spur of the moment kind of thing."

"When you disappeared into all that darkness…I couldn't see you. I haven't been able to touch you because of that damn shield and then…."

"Okay. It's okay." Rodney's hands soothed his back, and the cramps in his stomach started to subside. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have asked you to keep our relationship secret. If Carson had known then he would have asked your permission to touch me," Rodney murmured.

John inhaled, deeply, needing to draw in Rodney's scent. "I've never been this kind of top before," he muttered. "I didn't know something like that could ever bother me. It never has before."

"I don't mind it." Rodney gave a little chuckle that vibrated against John's ribcage from where he was holding his sub so tightly. "You see, I've been moping around, thinking how damn perfect you are, and then you go and do this. It's the kind of little imperfection that makes you endearing. Makes you seem less damn smug."

"Smug?" John pulled back, and glanced at his sub. Rodney grinned at him.

"Kinda," he said, but John wasn't quite ready to smile yet. He pulled Rodney close instead, and pressed his lips to his sub's mouth, hard and demanding. Rodney opened up easily, returning his kiss with passion, and John felt some equilibrium returning to his world. He needed this – they *both* needed this. They parted only for air, and John kept a tight hold on his sub.

"I need you," he said urgently. "I need to be inside you."

"Not here." Rodney took hold of his hand and led him back into the city, taking him towards his own quarters, which were closest.

John felt lost, and he was glad of Rodney's hand in his own, pulling him along. If it had been down to him he'd have taken Rodney out there, on the balcony, because that restless hum of blood in his veins hadn't stopped. The build up of the past few hours was reaching a crescendo, and John was totally blinded right now, walking completely in the dark with only Rodney to guide him. He needed Rodney, in a way he'd never needed anyone before.

He clung onto Rodney as they walked, fast, and then when they finally reached the privacy of Rodney's quarters, John threw himself on his sub. He tore Rodney's shirt from his body with a growl of ownership, and then buried his face in Rodney's neck. His hands slid down Rodney's bare back, needing to feel skin beneath his fingertips, and he sucked on Rodney's neck urgently, needing to drink in Rodney's taste.

Rodney, by contrast, was calmer than John had ever known him. He gentled John, talking to him in a low, soft voice, and John keened against Rodney, bucking his hips against Rodney's groin, shuddering to himself as he tried to get the events of the past few hours out of his mind. It was as if there was an endless replay going on inside his brain – Rodney surrounded by that forcefield, untouchable and miserable, driving John insane by being so close and yet so out of reach; Rodney walking into the darkness, disappearing from his sight; Rodney lying on the floor, pale and lifeless, and those terrible couple of minutes when he'd thought his sub was dead.

John felt like he was surrendering to a necessary catharsis that he was powerless to resist. He was drinking in Rodney's scent, his fingers scrabbling over Rodney's skin, seeking the flesh-to-flesh contact. His cock was hard, weeping with the need to be inside Rodney, to be lodged tight in his sub's warm, welcoming body, where he belonged.

Rodney was in charge now – John didn't even know his own name at this point. He was aware of Rodney stripping him, taking care never to be out of physical contact with him, skin always on skin, talking to him throughout, grounding him with the sound of his voice.

Then Rodney was leading him over to the bed, and John went, the need to be inside Rodney so strong it was all he could think about.

Rodney got onto the bed and pulled John down on top of him, and John came to rest on Rodney's chest. He could feel Rodney's hard cock pulsing against his own, and he wrapped his arms around Rodney's body and kissed his sub hard again, losing himself in the sensation of closeness.

Rodney's mouth was so warm and inviting, his kisses both intoxicating and calming at the same time, but John knew that nothing would bring him out of this dark mood except putting his cock into Rodney's anus and riding him hard until he came deep inside him. That was the only thing that could connect them again, and bring him any kind of peace.

He opened Rodney's legs and struggled to get his cock positioned but Rodney was talking to him, reminding him of something…he wasn't sure what. All he could think about was pushing himself into Rodney's body. He felt something cold and wet land on his cock, saw Rodney pushing lube frantically into his own body, trying to prepare himself, and he grabbed the lube and slathered some onto his fingers.

"Let me…let me…" he panted, pushing Rodney's hand aside, jealous of anyone touching Rodney, even Rodney himself. He slid his own fingers into Rodney's body and it felt good, so damn good. John worked on automatic, stretching Rodney while kissing him, always kissing him, pausing only for breath and then diving back for more.

He felt a hum start at the back of his mind, pushing the darkness away, and the faintest, tentative sensation of that warm sweetness that always flowed between them when their lovemaking was at its most intense. It was more than he could bear, and he removed his fingers and pushed his hard cock towards Rodney's hole.

"It's okay…it's fine…" Rodney was whispering, his hands stroking John's trembling body. "I can handle it…get in me, it's okay, I'm ready…" and John thought that was a good thing because he honestly couldn't hold on any longer.

He parted Rodney's buttocks with his hands and lodged himself forcefully in Rodney's hole. Rodney breathed faster, but he didn't say a word, just smiled up at John and guided John's cock into him, and John pushed, hard, and then found himself sliding in, up to the root, so that his entire cock was buried deep inside Rodney's body.

John felt the pressure at the back of his mind ease off now that he was in Rodney. He paused, and abandoned himself to the sensation of smelling Rodney's arousal, as familiar to him as his own, and to the sheer heady joy of feeling Rodney's internal muscles clenching tight around his cock, embracing and welcoming him in.

Rodney was still talking to him, in those low, gentle tones, and he was dimly aware that he would never have expected Rodney to have such a calming quality to his voice, but he was beyond much by way of coherent thought so the surprise slipped easily out of his mind.

All he could think about was being in Rodney, and he was acting entirely on instinct as he slid his hips back, and then pushed them forwards again. Rodney's breathing hitched in response to the forceful thrust, and John adjusted his position and did it again – and again. Rodney's breath hitched each time in a way that was arousing, exciting him even more.

John felt as if he was falling through space and time, falling into the dark, and Rodney was there beneath him, holding him as he fell, keeping him safe. John didn't need to be in control because Rodney was. Rodney could stop him with a word but he didn't. He just lay there, legs wide open, ankles wrapped around John's back, and took John inside him, as deep as it was possible to go, and John let go of any last vestige of control and surrendered himself completely to the darkness.

The darkness was all around him now, and all he could hear was the sound of his own thrusting, and Rodney's panting little cries, and then suddenly *it* was back, warmer and sweeter than ever, flowing between them, finally unblocked. It was if that moment stretched on for infinity, John buried deep inside his sub, Rodney laying himself open, offering himself up to his top, and the flow of energy between them was like a fire, blazing with an intense, pleasurable heat.

The darkness was more intense now than ever before, darker than that shadow creature that had almost consumed them both earlier. John could feel wetness on his cheeks but he had no idea what it was. He just knew that he loved this man beneath him more than he would have thought it was possible to love anyone. Rodney was his, and he'd nearly been lost to him. Rodney was his, and he'd been unable to touch him. Rodney was his, and now he had to claim him back - from death, from the shield, from all the people who had laid their hands on him. Rodney was his…his…his….

The darkness was suddenly replaced by a flashing white light, so bright it knocked out every sensation in his mind, and then he was falling again, for real this time, and Rodney *was* there beneath him, catching him in his arms and holding him tight, and John closed his eyes and allowed himself to be held, for the first time in a very long time.

When he came to, the darkness had gone, and he felt weak and dizzy. The emotional turmoil of the past couple of hours had completely receded, leaving him exhausted but able to think straight for the first time since Rodney had walked into that black shadow. He shifted, and realised that Rodney was stroking his back, gently, and pressing little kisses into his neck. His cock was still buried deep inside Rodney's body but he didn't want to move just yet.

"Better now?" Rodney asked, still stroking him with those big, capable hands of his.

"Yeah. I'm sorry," he croaked, moving his head and finding himself looking into Rodney's blue eyes.

"It's okay. I'm just glad you're back. You were so out of it."

"Did I hurt you?" John lifted his head anxiously.

"No." Rodney shook his head. "I mean, I doubt I'll be able to walk in the morning, obviously, and I'm not saying it wasn't kind of scary – but that was partly what made it so hot."

"Sorry," John said again, feeling pathetic. Rodney pinched his buttock.

"You've said that once," he said.

"Mmm. Felt like it needed saying more than once," John replied, resting his head on Rodney's chest. Rodney stroked his hair and John sighed and relaxed even more. "I will move. In a minute," he said. "I just…still need to be inside you for a bit longer."

"No rush," Rodney replied. "I like it anyway."

"Mmm." John angled his head sideways, and Rodney leaned in and kissed his mouth.

John zoned out again, just revelling in the rightness of being here, alone with Rodney, their bodies still joined in the aftermath of the most out-of-control sex John had ever had.

"I love you," someone said.

John sighed, thinking it was probably him who had just said that because Rodney hadn't said those words to him yet.

"Mmm," he murmured. Rodney's hands drifted down towards his buttocks, and came to rest there, just lightly.

"I love you," the voice said again, right in his ear. He looked up, startled. "Well I wanted some reaction seeing as how you made such a fuss about it earlier," Rodney told him.

"Wait – you said that?" John frowned.

Rodney laughed and kissed the side of his face. "Do you want me to wait until the blood has returned to your brain and say it again then?" he asked.

"No. Say it again now," John instructed. "I'll concentrate very hard."

"Okay then. I-love-you." Rodney's blue eyes were ridiculously close, but entirely sincere.

John grinned. "It would have killed you to say it earlier? You had to make me wait?" he groused. Rodney frowned.

"Are you saying it wasn't worth waiting for?" he asked.

John grinned, and pressed a kiss on Rodney's chest. "Definitely worth waiting for," he said. "What took you so long?"

"I just needed to know I wasn't going to be the only total screw-up in the relationship," Rodney said, looking a little smug. John couldn't argue with that.

"I'm surprised you haven't run screaming for the hills," he sighed. "I'll apologise to Carson in the morning of course."

"I'll come with you. It's partly my fault – we should have told him about us earlier and I know you wanted to."

"Does this mean you've changed your mind about moving in with me?" John asked.

"Not yet," Rodney replied. "I just need some time to get used to all this."

"That's cool." John kissed Rodney's neck. "Whenever."

He must have drifted off to sleep as he woke up an hour or so later feeling cold. The sweat had dried on his skin, and they were both ass naked on Rodney's bed. Rodney shifted beneath him, and John realised his sub was awake.

"You should have woken me up," John said. "I'm still inside you."

"I know. I like it but…."

"Yeah." John pulled his hips back, and his cock slid out of Rodney's body with a soft plop. Rodney winced.

"Sorry." John grabbed a blanket from the untidy heap at the bottom of the bed and pulled it up over both of them. Then he rolled over and slung his arm around Rodney's waist. If he concentrated, John could still feel that warm energy flowing between them, sweet as honey. It wasn't as powerful as it had been earlier, but he'd never been able to sense it before except during sex so this was different. He wondered what it was. It didn't feel wrong – on the contrary – it felt very right. John closed his eyes, and let the warm energy wash over him, bathing him, and soon they both fell into a deep, contented sleep.


	14. The Collaring

John woke several hours later, and his cock immediately responded to having Rodney so close and so naked. He lay there for several minutes, trying to ignore his aching erection, but finally he decided that as Rodney's top he should exert a few rights over his sub's body, and he began to fondle Rodney insistently. He reached for the lube on the nightstand, and slid his fingers into Rodney's anus. Rodney came to, and made a little mumbling sound in the back of his throat.

"Too sore after last night?" John asked. Rodney glanced at him over his shoulder.

"Mmm. No," he muttered, and he moved one of his legs so John had better access. John grinned. One of the things he was starting to really appreciate about his sub was that Rodney never, *ever* said no to sex. He had a sex drive to match John's and that made John's cock very happy indeed.

John lubed his rock hard cock, and then snubbed it gently into Rodney's ass. They were both still half-asleep, and it was lazy morning sex, just casual little thrusts. After the frenzy of the previous night John felt they needed this. He kissed the back of Rodney's neck as he rocked into him and Rodney sighed.

It was a gentle, relaxed little sex session, and John came inside Rodney and then laid his chin on Rodney's shoulder and sighed. He was aware that Rodney hadn't come, and he'd made no effort to bring him to climax.

Something between them had deepened after last night, and John felt it was time to assert more dominance in the bedroom. He'd always held back with his subs before, never done more than play at making them submit, but with Rodney he felt he wanted to go much further. They were both on a journey together, and he sensed that Rodney would be a willing partner, prepared to explore his submission in the same way that John wanted to explore his dominance.

"I don't want you to come today," John whispered in his ear. Rodney shivered slightly. "And I want you to keep yourself lubed because I might want to take you at any time," John added, caressing Rodney's naked body with his fingers, loving the way Rodney trembled beneath his touch. "When I want you, then I'm just gonna bend you over and take you. You won't come until I say that you can."

"Okay," Rodney whispered, his voice hoarse, and his cock hard and hopeful. John grinned. He'd always liked the idea of keeping a sub shivering on the brink before, but had never had a sub he'd wanted to take to this level. Rodney always responded so beautifully though – it was such a turn on.

"I don't want you touching your cock today except when you use the bathroom," John continued, purring into Rodney's ear. "Your cock is mine. I'm the only one who gets to touch it. And this ass." He squeezed Rodney's ass with his hands, and Rodney's entire body seemed to ripple with pleasure. "This beautiful ripe ass is mine too."

"Yeah..." Rodney gave a little whimper.

"Mine to touch, mine to bite, mine to spank," John whispered in his ear. He knew Rodney liked hearing this kind of thing as much as he liked saying it. "Mine to fuck," he added, in a low, growly tone, and Rodney almost went into a spasm at that.

"That whole not coming thing hasn't started yet, right?" Rodney asked hopefully. John snorted and pinched his buttock firmly, making Rodney squeal.

"What do you think?" John asked.

"I was just hoping," Rodney sighed.

"If you're good today then I might let you come this evening," John said, grinning.

Rodney sighed and flung his arms open wide. "Just kill me now," he lamented.

John laughed and turned Rodney towards him, then bestowed a loving kiss on his sub's mouth. "Stop complaining or I might not let you come all week," he said, and Rodney's blue eyes looked so stricken by that thought that John couldn't help laughing again.

They took a slow, loving shower, with John inspecting every inch of his sub's body for any damage caused by his encounter with the shadow creature the previous day. Rodney seemed unscathed, although John decided he was still going to take his sub along to Carson for a check-up anyway.

They got dressed and walked along to the infirmary. John squared his shoulders as they got close. He didn't like having to say he was sorry but his behaviour the previous day had been completely insane, and he owed Carson an apology.

The doctor looked up warily as they came in, and eyed them both cautiously.

"Carson, I'm sorry," John said quickly. "I hope I didn't hurt you yesterday?" He saw the faintest hint of a bruise on Carson's neck, and winced.

"Only a little. I was worried about you though," Carson said, glancing at John and then at Rodney, and back again. "Rodney told me he'd take care of you, and I told him to call if you needed any medical help. I presume that wasn't necessary as neither of you called. What was going on for you, John?"

"He's my top. I'm his sub. He got freaked out by all the touching people were doing," Rodney supplied helpfully. It wasn't quite the way John would have put it, but it was pretty close to the truth.

Carson let out a little holler of joy. "So you two finally got together? Thank god! I was beginning to despair of the pair of you!"

Rodney frowned. "Why? I mean…you don't seem very surprised, Carson."

"I'm not!" Carson grinned. "This one here has been mooning over you for months for a start, and I knew you'd fall right into his arms if you'd just wake up, get your head out of your own arse, and see sense."

"Is that right? You've been mooning over me?" Rodney grinned widely at that, glancing sideways at John.

"I wouldn't describe it as mooning exactly," John replied defensively.

Rodney giggled, and John couldn't resist putting an arm around him and pulling him close. Rodney came, easily, and John felt that sensation of rightness again. He pressed a kiss to Rodney's hair and then smiled at Carson, who was beaming at them both like an enchanted matchmaker, delighted with his own handiwork.

"So I'm sorry, Carson. You've been a good friend to us and what I did yesterday was wrong," John said.

"No problem. I'm just delighted you two are finally an item."

"I'm bringing Rodney along for that check-up he should have had yesterday," John said. "He says he's fine but I want an expert opinion."

Rodney snorted. "If one can actually be an expert in voodoo," he muttered.

"Be nice, laddie, or I might complain to your top about you," Carson told him. "I hear that a good strapping can work wonders on a smart mouth like yours."

"Ha." Rodney made a face but clearly didn't feel confident in pursuing that line of conversation.

"Okay – John, I need to take some blood, and listen to Rodney's heart among other things," Carson said. "Is that okay, and would you like to be present?"

"Yes, and yes." John smiled, relaxing. It was never easy watching anyone touch Rodney, but he trusted Carson and now he'd given his permission it felt much easier. Carson smiled back at him and waved Rodney behind a curtained bed. John joined them there, and watched as Carson went about his work.

"I suppose you're going to want to visit Hicks while we're here," Rodney muttered. John gave him a sideways glance, sure that he'd detected a note of jealousy in Rodney's voice.

"I do, yes. How's he doing, Carson?" John asked.

"He'll be fine – we'll keep him here for a few days. We're giving him something to help the swelling go down. His skin's a bit puffy and painful. Right. I'm done with you, Rodney. Now – John, your turn."

"Me? I'm fine," John protested.

"And yesterday you sustained a head wound and a mild concussion," Carson said. "Remember?"

"To be honest I'd forgotten," John grinned, shaking his head. "A lot has happened since then, doc."

"Well, I haven't forgotten," Carson told him firmly. "So let's have a look."

Carson took his time, doing his usual thorough job, and John noticed that the doctor was making more notes than usual, frowning as he did so. He also ran more tests than John thought was strictly necessary.

"Is there a problem, doc?" he asked, puzzled, when Carson was done.

"Not a problem as such, no," Carson said slowly, examining his notes and then fishing out some old notes and comparing them. John rested his hand on Rodney's shoulder and Rodney glanced at him, a questioning look in his eyes.

"To be honest, I'm a bit surprised," Carson said. "That head wound wasn't bad, but it wasn't negligible, either, John, and yet today…it's almost completely healed. There's also very little trace of that burn on your hand and arm – no swelling, nothing beyond a bit of mild tanning in fact. And Rodney – now, not only does he appear to be completely unscathed after his encounter with that shadow creature yesterday, but his blood pressure is much improved on the last reading I took. In fact, he's usually borderline hypertensive and yet now…his readings are at the upper end of normal."

"Well that all sounds good, not bad," Rodney commented.

"It is – but it's also unusual, and I don't like mysteries, especially medical mysteries," Carson muttered.

"So what do you think is happening?" John asked.

"Well…" Carson glanced at the notes, and then back at them. "I'm not sure how you're going to take this, but it looks to me very much as if you two have formed the beginnings of a lifebond."

"What?" John froze, remembering his fathers. He'd spent the past eighteen years distrusting the whole idea of lifebonds, so this was a shock.

"Well, we could just put it down to the restorative faculties of having copious amounts of very good sex," Carson grinned. "Which you two obviously are – but the results are more marked than that."

"What does it mean?" Rodney asked quietly. "I mean, you said the beginnings of a lifebond? I take it that we haven't somehow bonded without knowing it?"

"No. That's not possible. If you were lifebonded you'd definitely know about it. And if you decide you want to lifebond then I think you'll find it easy enough but it has to be a conscious decision, and you'll need to go through a certain mental and emotional process to complete it – it can't happen by accident," Carson said firmly. "You have to mean it, and you have to want it. However, I have read about instances where a bond has started to form spontaneously – and that seems to be what's happened to you. It's not a problem, and it's nothing to worry about. In fact it's a good thing – as your current glowing state of health testifies."

John stole a cautious glance at Rodney, wondering how his sub was taking this news – it was certainly more than either of them had bargained for. Rodney didn't seem particularly bothered though – in fact he had a cheerful expression on his face and a lively curiosity on the subject.

"I've never really taken much interest in lifebonds before," Rodney mused. "I always thought they were a bit freaky to be honest. I had no idea it was even possible for people to have the beginnings of a lifebond. I thought you needed training and a big ritual and years of meditation and Shinzoic sex to reach that level."

John gave a little snort at that. Rodney glanced up at him. "What?"

"Sorry – just the thought of you having Shinzoic sex," John grinned. "You'd never be able to keep quiet enough."

Shinzoin was a particularly pure form of dominant and submissive sex, where the two participants took their roles as top and sub to almost spiritual levels. They entered into a headspace where they were completely attuned to each other, the sub willing to surrender every single aspect of themselves to their top, finding an inner, peaceful, silent subspace. It was equally challenging for the top who had to fully inhabit their own topspace, coming to view their sub as an extension of their own will, utterly in step with them, as completely under their control as one of their own limbs. Some people had likened it to a kind of choreography, whereby a couple had an almost telepathic link.

John had seen some Shinzoic couples – they did look very zoned out and at one with each other, and there was a kind of strength and peace in that, but John didn't have a whole lot of time for the pursuit of that kind of perfection.

"I could!" Rodney protested. "I'm a genius. I can do anything I put my mind to."

"Well, okay," John said, in a frankly disbelieving tone, trying to imagine restless, talkative, irascible Rodney as a quiet, obedient, peaceful Shinzoic devotee, and failing completely.

"Getting back to your point, Rodney," Carson said, "the medical profession still isn't entirely sure how the lifebond works, but it seems to be the flow of kaeira along the bond that helps in the healing process. Now, kaeira is a bit like other healing energies, such as Reiki, but it has a far more dramatic effect when flowing along a lifebond than Reiki has."

"You're making even less sense than usual, Carson," Rodney told him. "I always thought all that stuff was so much mumbo-jumbo. Kaeira, Reiki…." He shook his head.

"Well they're hard to medically quantify but we know they exist," Carson said. "I've got some medical papers on them if you'd like to read them."

"I'm sure they'll be riddled with errors and inaccuracies, and I'm bound to regret this, but okay. If this thing is happening to me I want to know about it," Rodney said, making a face.

"Pop into my office next door and ask Nurse Morelli for them – he knows where they're filed," Carson told him. Rodney bounced happily off the bed and disappeared. "So, you two finally got together," Carson said, giving John a speculative glance. "And as you're both looking so relaxed and healthy, I'm guessing it's going pretty well?"

"Fantastic," John grinned. "Although…I'm still having trouble controlling my emotions, Carson. I've never felt like this before and it's pretty confusing. What I did to you yesterday…." He sighed and shook his head. "Well, I really am sorry. I was out of control."

"And how does Rodney feel about that?" Carson asked. "You didn't hurt him?" he added anxiously.

"What? No!" John shook his head vehemently. "To be honest he's the one person I know I *couldn't* hurt when I feel like I did yesterday. Even when it feels that dark inside, one word from him and I'd pull back – but it's kind of easier if it can take its course – if I can let it out, with him, safely, just the two of us. And he handled it amazingly well – I'm still a bit surprised about that. He seems to kind of have a feel for me."

"Well, the fact you've formed a spontaneous pre-lifebond is an indication of how compatible you are," Carson said. "Some people strive to bond for years and never manage it, and you two have been together for five minutes and you've already got the makings of a strong bond, whether you choose to complete it or not. As for the emotional side of things – I hate to say this because I can see you're something of a sceptic, but you might like to take a look at the Shinzoin principles. They might help you get that under control. Also, to avoid misunderstandings like yesterday, you should consider putting a collar on Rodney. Nobody would touch him without your permission if he was collared."

"I'm working on it," John sighed. "Trust me, nothing would please me more. But…I freaked him out by asking him to move in with me, and after that whole thing with Bates and his training collar…well, I don't want to scare him off completely."

"I doubt you would. I think Rodney is the kind of sub who'd love the security of wearing a collar," Carson told him in a serious tone of voice. John remembered something Rodney had said to Bates, about how he viewed the act of collaring as one of love, and how he'd always kind of hoped for it to be a romantic moment. "And now you two are 'out' with your relationship – well, there's nothing stopping you," Carson said, patting his arm.

"Well, we're 'out' to you – I'm not sure how Rodney feels about being out to anyone else just yet," John replied. "We still need to have that conversation."

Rodney returned, clutching a disk, and John reached out and put his hand on Rodney's shoulder. If he was quiet, and concentrated hard, he could feel that warm, sweet energy flowing between them, always in the background, just out of focus. He realised how fragile the fledging lifebond was – yesterday, when he'd been unable to touch Rodney, their link had felt blocked, and John had missed it without even knowing it, the loss gnawing at him from the inside, making him irritable and unhappy. Then when they'd been making love last night, it had come back, stronger than ever. He guessed that their bond depended on them touching and tasting each other frequently, and on regular love-making.

They left the curtained-off cubicle, and Carson led them over to the other side of the infirmary where Hicks was being cared for. John felt Rodney stiffen as they approached, and he realised why when he saw Bates standing beside Hicks's bed. John put his hand back on Rodney's shoulder, and squeezed, feeling his own hackles rise.

He was surprised to see Bates here – he knew that he and Hicks had been friends, but that had been before he'd given Hicks Bates's job. He had thought that Bates might be vindictive enough to turn against Hicks for that, but maybe he had misjudged the man, because Bates was standing close, talking to Hicks, and Hicks was nodding and smiling. Something about the little tableau made John feel uneasy, but he wasn't sure what.

Bates looked up and saw them coming over, and his expression darkened. John felt Rodney tense even more beside him, and he squeezed harder. Carson was right – Rodney needed a collar, and John wanted nothing more than to put one around his neck, to proclaim to the world that Rodney was his, and nobody had better touch him.

"Morning Sergeant Hicks," John said. Hicks gazed up at him in surprise.

"You came to visit me, sir?" he said, sounding pathetically pleased.

"Of course. I wanted to see how you were doing," John replied. Hicks's normally pale skin was puffy and swollen, but it didn't look any worse than very bad sunburn, and Carson's team clearly had the condition under control.

"I'm fine, sir. I'll be back at work by the end of the week," Hicks said eagerly.

"We'll see about that, laddie," Carson said, with a fond smile. "Next week maybe."

"Take your time, Sergeant," Rodney said cheerfully. "I mean…no need to rush. Nobody's missing you or anything." He cast a sideways glance at John and John smothered a grin. Oh yeah, Rodney was *definitely* jealous, and that gave him hope.

A collar wouldn't just keep other tops away from Rodney – it would also proclaim to anyone who was interested that John had taken a sub and so that position was no longer vacant. Of course a top could take more than one sub, but that wasn't John's style - and somehow John doubted that many subs would risk upsetting the irascible Dr McKay by making a move on him. Rodney did pretty much control the city after all, and nobody would want to be condemned to a lifetime of cold showers for daring to make a pass at Rodney's top.

John chatted to Hicks for a few minutes but not for too long because he could tell that Rodney wasn't comfortable standing so close to Bates. John didn't blame him – he didn't feel very comfortable with it himself. Bates just stood there, glowering at them both, his gaze fixed on the hand John had on Rodney's shoulder, clearly considering what that might mean.

Occasionally his gaze flickered up to Rodney's neck, and John knew that he was looking for a collar. Rodney was wearing his lab coat though, and the lapels partially obscured his neck, making it difficult to see what he might be wearing there.

John was pleased Hicks was okay and he left the infirmary with Rodney, his hand still on Rodney's shoulder, making the most of their last few minutes together before they left for their respective jobs.

"You didn't waste your time," a voice rang out behind them in the hallway. Rodney froze, and John turned, slowly and deliberately. Bates was standing there, fists clenched tight by his side, glaring at them both.

"Excuse me, Corporal - did you have something to say to me?" John asked. Rodney moved a step closer to him, so that their hips were touching, and the link between them thrummed, tautly, as if responding to their heightened sense of danger.

"I'm just thinking how unfair it is. You only warned me off McKay because you wanted him for yourself," Bates spat. "You pulled rank on me in order to get your hands on *my* sub."

"I was never your goddamn sub you stupid pinhead!" Rodney snapped. "When will you *ever* get that into that pint sized brain of yours?"

"You were mine. You were *this* close to being mine," Bates growled, holding up his thumb and forefinger.

"He turned you down. Accept it, Corporal," John said firmly. "And now he's mine."

"Is he? I don't see a collar on him," Bates said, with a grim little smile. "Seems to me like he's still fair game."

Rodney made a tiny little sound at the back of his throat, and John had to put a warning hand on his sub's arm to stop him throwing himself at the other man. His own anger was simmering just beneath the surface, but he knew that Bates was taunting them, and refused to rise to the challenge.

"Listen to me, you nasty little punk," Rodney said, in a low, furious voice. "He's my top, I'm his sub, and I will never, ever belong to you. As for a collar – if he ever wants to put one on me then I'll wear it with pride – unlike that nasty choke chain you wanted to put around my throat. Now back off, because I've seen him when he gets jealous, and trust me, you don't want to be on the receiving end of an angry John Sheppard again."

Bates gave another twisted little smile. "Getting your submissive to fight your battles for you, Colonel?" he taunted. John burst out laughing – which visibly punctured Bates's unpleasant little bubble.

"He's doing a pretty good job of it," he replied with a shrug. "Mess with him and you mess with both of us, Bates. Now, Rodney's made his choice. Accept it, and move on with your life because if you ever lay a finger on him, ever again, then I promise you I'll kill you with my bare hands."

John didn't raise his voice as he said that, but he left nobody in that hallway in any doubt that he meant it. He put his hand back on Rodney's shoulder, and they both turned and walked away, leaving Bates behind. John felt a little glow of happiness as they walked. Rodney had said that he'd be proud to wear his collar! John let his finger slide gently up and down Rodney's neck as they walked, thinking how good it would be to see his collar resting there, proclaiming Rodney as his for all the world to see.

They got into the transporter – the lab was the first stop, and when they got there, Rodney made to leave but John reached out, pulled him back, pinned him against the wall of the transporter and kissed him hard. Rodney sighed, and melted against him – John loved the way his sub did that – it aroused him so much. He wished they didn't have to work, as he'd like nothing more than to push Rodney to his knees and be on the receiving end of another of his truly spectacular blow jobs, but they were late as it was so he had to be satisfied with a kiss. He made it a damn good one though, and when he finally released Rodney his sub blinked at him, looking a little dazed.

"Okay…so…that's really put me in the mood to work," Rodney grumbled, grinning anyway.

"I know how engrossed you can get. I just wanted to make sure that some little corner of your mind remembers me while you're busy blowing stuff up in the lab," John told him.

"Contrary to what you may think, most of what I do does not involve blowing stuff up," Rodney retorted.

"Yeah. Whatever." John placed a hand on Rodney's butt. "Just remember that your ass is mine – whenever I want it." He squeezed, and then opened the door and pushed Rodney out. Rodney stood there for a moment, gazing down at the front of his pants forlornly.

"And the whole not touching myself/not coming thing?" he asked, blue eyes looking adorably hopeful.

"Still a rule," John grinned, closing the door to the sweet sound of Rodney's sigh of protest.

 

~*~

 

Rodney hummed to himself all morning as he went about his work. He brought in donuts and coffee for his team again, and was in a thoroughly good mood. Yesterday had been tough, but today was going to be good. He could feel it. In fact, he really *could* feel it. His ass ached pleasantly whenever he sat down, and sometimes, when he was least expecting it, he had a momentary little flashback to the events of the previous night. An out-of-control John had been edgy, but exciting, and Rodney had felt he understood his top on an almost intuitive level. John's moods were complex, and occasionally dark, but now Rodney felt less like the novice in their relationship. John might have a better handle on their relationship generally, but he also had this odd vulnerability, and Rodney liked him all the better for it.

Rodney sighed, feeling absurdly at peace with the world. He was doing a job he adored, was in love with a man he adored, and having the most amazing sex of his life, and generally speaking he didn't think things could get much better. It was astonishing how much his life had changed since coming to Atlantis. He winced when he remembered what a completely fucked-up person he'd been just a few short months ago.

Rodney sat down at his work station and smiled to himself as he felt the pressure on his well-fucked ass. His cock hardened a little, hopefully, and he sighed. John had been very clear in his instructions this morning, and Rodney was not, despite what other people might think, the kind of sub who disobeyed an order from a top he loved and respected. He could go to the men's room and masturbate, but he didn't want to. He liked giving John this amount of control over his body. It turned him on knowing that John had ordered him not to touch his own cock. It kept him on edge, and he knew that when John did finally allow him to come, that it would be spectacular.

Rodney radioed John around lunchtime but found, much to his annoyance, that his lover had been called over to the mainland, so he grabbed a sandwich, feeling his happy mood dissipate somewhat. A couple of hours later he got a call asking him to go and take a look at puddle jumper one and he set off grumpily. He hated being interrupted in his work, and the puddle jumpers weren't exactly a priority for him.

"What am I – a mechanic?" he grumbled to himself. "It's always McKay fix this, McKay fix that. McKay, my computer isn't working. McKay, one of the puddlejumpers needs a new sealing joint. Blah, blah, blah." He reached the puddle jumper, clutching a box of tools in his hand, and slammed his hand on the door mechanism. The jumper opened and Rodney stepped inside, still grumbling to himself. "The city could be about to explode and there'd still be some idiot somewhere asking me to go fix the damn coffee machine," he muttered. The door shut behind him and he put his toolbox down on one of the bunks.

"Talking to yourself?" a voice behind him said, and he jumped, and then felt a familiar fizz of arousal zoom through his body as two arms slid around him. "I just got back from the mainland, and all I could think about on the journey home was your ass," John whispered in his ear. "I want you to bend over the flight console so I can take you."

Rodney swallowed down, hard. There was something so incredibly sexy about just being available for his top, whenever John wanted to take him. He was turned on as all hell, but at the same time, knowing he wasn't allowed to come made the event even more meaningful. He wanted to come, because just hearing his top speaking in that low, sexy growl made him hard. But at the same time, knowing he couldn't come meant that his body really was his top's plaything, for John to enjoy whenever he wanted, and that turned Rodney on even more.

He hurried over to the console, and quickly unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down to his ankles, then bent over the console, leaning forward and holding on. It felt weird to be standing like this, ass exposed, waiting for his top to fuck him, but also damn sexy. They were in a puddle jumper for god's sake! He felt waylaid, surprised, and that was a good feeling. John flicked a couple of switches, locking the hatch and activating the cloak, and Rodney heaved a sigh of relief. The last thing he wanted was for Radek's inquisitive face to come peering through the window to see him in this utterly compromising position.

He felt John come up behind him, and then his top began running his hands over Rodney's upturned ass, and Rodney sighed, feeling that buzz he always felt when John touched his naked skin.

"You feel good. Nice and hot and ready for me," John whispered. "Open your legs wider for me, Rodney. Wider. That's good. Did you remember to keep yourself lubed for me?" Rodney gave a little gasp as a finger slid, unexpectedly, into his ass. "Oh yeah. That's real good." John purred. He leaned forward and deposited a kiss on the back of Rodney's neck, making Rodney shiver. "Who do you belong to, Rodney?" John asked, sliding his finger insistently in and out of Rodney's anus. Rodney closed his eyes.

"You," he whispered, turned on beyond belief. Damn this was hot! John was so completely compelling and commanding, and Rodney had never felt more submissive in his life. He had never done more than toy with his own submission before, enjoying it insofar as he got off, but never giving any more of himself than he had to. He'd never have been able to do this for another top, to offer himself up for sex without expecting to be able to come himself, at least at some point during the proceedings, even if he had to hold it. Hell, he'd have told another top where to go for even suggesting it, but with John it felt so arousing that his entire body quivered with sensation.

He'd read a lot about the submissive headspace – it was hard to avoid articles yammering on about it as if it was an elusive holy grail requiring some special knowledge to reach. Rodney had never given it a whole lot of thought before. If he came, then sex was good. If he didn't then he was pissed off.

This was different though. There was pleasure to be had simply in the situation itself. There was pleasure to be had also in the evident pleasure John got from taking him. Rodney sighed, and laid his head down on the console, opening his legs up as wide as possible, relaxing his internal muscles so John could enter him more easily. This felt incredible!

"Oh that's good. You're so good," John murmured to him, his hands stroking Rodney's bottom insistently. "I'm going to take you now, take you so hard…."

Rodney felt his buttocks being spread even further, and then the now familiar feel of John's hard cock nudging at his anus. There was always a moment of burning as the ring of muscle was breached, but then came that entirely pleasurable sensation of John's large, powerful cock filling him to the hilt.

Rodney clung onto the console as John slid into him, keeping him nailed into position. Rodney heard his top give a little hiss of pleasure as he lodged himself fully inside him, and then John's fingers slid under his tee shirt and tweaked his nipples. Rodney gave a startled little squawk and John hushed him, his breath tickling Rodney's ear.

"Mmm, that's it, take me…" John purred, moving his hips back and forth. Rodney started to pant as that large cock filled him, thrusting deep inside him with every movement of John's hips. It had only been a few days since Rodney had first allowed John inside his body but it felt like a lifetime.

This was how it *should* be, Rodney thought to himself. John's cock felt so right inside him. Their bodies fitted together so perfectly. He would never have imagined even a week ago that this could feel so good. His anus had stretched to accommodate John's size, and while it sometimes felt a little sore from such frequent use, the sense of pleasure he got from taking John into his body in this way more than made up of for it.

"Damn you're good…so tight…" John was saying, and Rodney mewled with pleasure, arching his back as John started pounding into him in earnest. Rodney's cock was hard and weeping but he held back his own orgasm, forcing himself not to give in to the waves of pleasure coursing through his body, and then John gave a triumphant shout and it was over.

There was a brief hiatus, during which Rodney wanted nothing more than to take his cock in his hand and bring himself to climax, but he rode it out, the sweat standing out on his body with the effort of it.

Finally John slid out of him, and he heard his top zipping up his fly, and then John was stroking his bare ass again. "That was fantastic," John said. "You can get up now."

Rodney stood up, shakily, and turned around. John looked down on his hard, weeping cock, and smiled. He pulled Rodney to him, and wrapped his arms around him. "That's good. That's so good. You held on," he said. "I'm proud of you, Rodney."

"It *was* good. Damnit, I'm shaking," Rodney replied, holding on tight to his top's warm, protective body. John's hands went down to his butt, and squeezed.

"You have no idea how hot that was. I mean…sex in the puddle jumper, and you…just taking it like that. No arguments, no backtalking - god I love you, Rodney."

"Mmm." Rodney basked in his top's praise. Not having an orgasm was worth it for this – and he knew that John would make his orgasm, when he was allowed it, all the sweeter. He wondered what his top had in mind for that. He had come to know John well enough to suspect that his top already had a plan for it.

"I want you to meet me here tonight," John told him, as if reading his mind. "After work. Go back to your quarters and get changed. Wear something hot. Then head back here and meet me at seven. I'll be waiting."

"What did you have in mind?" Rodney asked.

John drew back and traced a finger over Rodney's lips. "That's a surprise," he said softly, before claiming another sweet kiss. Then, reluctantly, he disengaged himself and left.

Rodney sighed and began readjusting his clothing. He could feel John's come seeping out of him, and needed to go to the bathroom to clean up, but he loved how it felt. He had to wait a few minutes for his erection to subside enough for him to be able to pull up his pants, and he roundly cursed his top for *that* little inconvenience.

Finally, he was able to make himself presentable, and he grabbed his toolbox and left the jumper in a much happier mood than when he'd arrived.

Rodney wore a silk shirt in a shade of vivid blue and the tightest pair of black chinos he possessed for his rendezvous with John later that evening. He even rubbed some gel into his hair, and when he looked at himself in the mirror he thought he'd come a long way from the dishevelled figure he'd been just a few weeks ago.

He arrived at the puddle jumper at five to seven to find John already there. Rodney had to pause to catch his breath, because John looked amazing. He was wearing a pair of those tight black leather pants that made his legs look so long and lean, and a loose, slinky black shirt that skimmed his body, showing off its hard lines, open at the neck to reveal tufts of chest hair. He wore a black leather vest over the top of the shirt, and a silver earring was dangling from his ear. Even his hair seemed extra spiky. Rodney took a moment just to look.

"You're drooling." John put his finger on Rodney's jaw, and pushed his mouth shut.

"You're walking around looking that hot and I'm supposed *not* to drool?" Rodney replied querulously. John shut him up with a quick kiss, and then pulled him into the puddle jumper.

"Are we doing a repeat of earlier?" Rodney asked.

"Nope." John shook his head, shutting the hatch behind them.

"You mean, we're actually *going* somewhere?" Rodney asked, surprised, as John strapped himself into the pilot's seat.

"Yep." John nodded in the direction of the passenger seat.

"Where?" Rodney couldn't think of anywhere they *could* go particularly. It wasn't as if the Pegasus Galaxy was exactly teaming with nightlife and bars.

"You'll see," John replied mysteriously.

It was only a short trip across the ocean and they landed in a familiar place. Rodney was grinning as they stepped outside. John grabbed a basket from one of the bunks, and then took hold of Rodney's hand and started leading him down towards the beach.

"Back to the scene of the crime huh?" Rodney said, remembering that fantastic first date, and that equally fantastic first kiss.

"Mmm." John paused for a moment to kiss him again, and Rodney leaned in close.

"If I'd known it'd lead to all this hot sex I wouldn't even have hesitated," Rodney murmured afterwards. John rolled his eyes.

"You have a one track mind," he said.

"Excuse me – I'm the one who hasn't come all day and you've come twice so I can be forgiven," Rodney retorted.

"Good things *come* to those who wait." John grinned at him infuriatingly, pulling him along again.

They walked along the beach and Rodney stopped as he saw the table standing on the sandy shore, and the blankets laid out around a warm, welcoming fire.

"You planned this?" he said, blinking in surprise.

"Yeah. I've been ferrying supplies over to the mainland for the Athosians all day so I just took some time out on the last trip to set all this up," John told him.

"For me?" Rodney asked, because this was the most ridiculously romantic thing he'd ever seen, and he wasn't exactly the kind of sub who'd ever attracted romantic gestures from any of his previous tops.

"Who else?" John rolled his eyes again. "Come on."

He pulled Rodney over to the table, and Rodney sat down, still surprised. It was starting to get dark, and the stars were just beginning to appear in the sky above them. It was a beautiful evening – still warm, with hardly any breeze.

John sat down opposite him, and lit the candles on the table. Then he opened the basket he'd brought with him. He took out a big plateful of food and put it in the middle of the table.

"I've got another one in the basket if you'd prefer, but I thought…" John paused, and took a deep breath. "If you like – we could share this one."

Rodney gazed at him. This was a loaded question, the subject of far too many romantic comedies and the substance of ludicrous amounts of romantic literature going back centuries. Rodney had felt uneasy about it before, but after yesterday he found that he didn't have any doubts. He was with John, and he would always be with John. Once he'd got his head around that, everything else just slotted into place.

"Sounds good," he replied, his voice hitching slightly with emotion, taking him by surprise. John's smile lit up his entire face, and Rodney felt warm inside. He'd just done something right – something very right.

John slid his fork into the food and offered it to Rodney. The candle flickered, lighting John's face, and the fire warmed them from a few feet away. Rodney took the mouthful of food from the fork, and John reached out and rested his hand on Rodney's. Rodney chewed – it tasted delicious, and he wondered how much John had had to bribe the mess staff to make it.

"Good?" John asked, taking a forkful himself.

"Fantastic," Rodney replied, swallowing the morsel down.

John poured them both a glass of wine and Rodney took a sip, still feeling slightly stunned by all this. It was all just so romantic – the table on the seashore beneath the starry sky, the beautifully prepared meal, the fire crackling nearby, and the inviting waiting blankets. And now he was sharing a plate with someone. He'd never imagined that would ever happen.

In the past, he'd always been faintly horrified by the idea – it seemed romantic but it meant giving up control over his food and Rodney wasn't comfortable with that. Now though, he could see it wasn't like that at all. It wasn't as if he had to wait for John to feed him all the time – if he wanted a donut in the lab he could still help himself. It was simply that when he and John were sitting down for a meal together, his top would hand feed him, and Rodney found that wasn't a hardship at all. In fact it was kind of relaxing.

Usually he shovelled his food down so fast that he barely tasted it, but John fed him slowly, taking bites himself between the forkfuls he gave to Rodney, and it was such a shared experience.

He'd never really *shared* a meal with someone else before, both of them taking pleasure in each bite, and he loved the intimacy of John holding the fork to his mouth, and occasionally wiping some sauce from his lips with a finger, or brushing his cheek with the back of his hand in a fond caress. Rodney was surprised by how connected he felt to his top sharing the meal with him. It gave them time to really talk, and they touched each other far more than they usually did while eating.

Rodney found he was concentrating on his top more, watching him cut the food with those long, elegant fingers, seeing the reflection of the dancing candlelight in his eyes as he held up each morsel. And all the time the waves rolled onto the sea shore, just beyond the table, and the faint breeze rustled through John's hair, and the fire crackled and danced in the darkness.

"My parents never shared a plate," Rodney murmured. "Neither one of them wanted to give up control to the other. So I never really understood what the big deal was before. All those bloody movies on the subject…."

"I know!" John grinned. "I dated one sub who loved those damn movies so much. I thought if I had to sit through one more sappy romcom about a couple who were meant to be together sharing plates with the wrong people or whatever I'd go insane."

Rodney smiled. "And yet here we are…doing something more romantic than I think I've ever seen in any movie."

"Well that's not hard. I bet most of the movies you watch are sci-fi," John pointed out.

Rodney laughed. "Yeah," he agreed softly.

John got a dish full of rich, dark chocolate mousse from the basket, placed it on the table between them, took a heaped spoonful, and held it to Rodney's lips.

"Oh shit," Rodney sighed as he tasted it. "That's so good."

"So I was thinking," John said, and Rodney picked up on a note of tension in his top's voice. "Carson knows, and Bates knows…and well, we're kind of sharing a plate now so I'm figuring that you're okay with the rest of the city knowing about us?"

"Yeah – that whole keeping it a secret thing was a dumb idea in the first place," Rodney said, with a shrug. "I just assumed we were going to crash and burn so I didn't want the inevitable disaster being any more public than it had to be. I'm over that now. In fact, I want every sub on this base to know that you're taken so they can stop throwing themselves at your feet whenever you walk past."

"Because that happens every day." John rolled his eyes.

"Don't tell me that Hicks hasn't propositioned you!" Rodney retorted. "He was giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes I've ever seen."

John grinned. "He did make a pass at me, yes, but that was awhile back, before I even realised I wanted you, and I told him back then that I wasn't interested. He's a nice enough kid but…I think I'd find him kind of boring."

"Well one thing I can promise you is that I won't ever be boring. I might drive you insane, but it won't be dull," Rodney said, taking another spoonful of the delicious chocolate mousse as John held it up to his mouth.

"Yeah. I figured that. I think that's partly what attracted me. You know, the first thing I thought when I saw you was that you were gonna be trouble – and I wasn't wrong there."

Rodney snorted at that.

"The second thing I noticed about you was your ass," John added, in that low tone that always turned Rodney on. "And I've been kind of fixated on it ever since."

"The first thing I noticed about you was your hair," Rodney said. "And then I tried not to notice you at all until that day you marched into my lab wearing your towel. It was hard not to notice you then."

"You were being difficult," John grinned.

"And you were showing me that you knew how to handle me," Rodney said, gazing intently at John's wet lower lip.

"And I do," John murmured, his eyes fixed on Rodney's face.

"Yeah," Rodney agreed, softly.

They gazed at each other silently for a long moment, the breeze caressing them gently, John's finger rubbing insistently along the inside of Rodney's palm, and then John moved, and drew one more thing out of the basket beside the table. It was a small box, and Rodney vaguely recognised it – he'd seen it in John's room, on his nightstand, beside the picture of his parents.

"I wanted to give you this," John said, placing the box in front of Rodney. "If you'll do me the honour of wearing it?"

Rodney felt his mouth go dry as he looked down on the box. He reached out, and fingers that were usually so dextrous were fumbling now as he picked it up. He glanced up at John who looked as nervous as Rodney had ever seen him, the casual, laid-back mask just barely in place. Rodney knew that he was getting to see a side to his top that John never allowed anyone to see.

He opened the box, slowly, and found a sleek collar, made of shiny white gold, nestled inside on a bed of plain black silk. He picked it up, the cool metal trailing sensuously through his fingers. Attached to it was a simple strip of gold, and engraved on that, in elegant italics, was a name: John Sheppard.

Rodney turned it over, and his breath caught in his throat as he saw one word engraved on the underside, where it would never been seen, where it would rest, hidden, against his flesh: Mine.

Rodney gazed at it, feeling suddenly wordless and winded. Nobody had ever wanted to collar him before, and he'd never wanted to be collared, but now he found that he wanted it more than anything else. He wondered what it would be like, to walk the hallways of Atlantis as a collared sub, with John Sheppard's name on his collar, proclaiming his ownership in such a classy way.

"If it's too soon…" John said anxiously. "After Bates…I wasn't sure…."

This was nothing like Bates's collar though. This wasn't an ugly choke chain, designed to restrain and restrict and strangle into submission. This was a beautiful item of jewellery, designed to be given as a gift, a token of love and affection.

The elegant engraving on this collar was a world away from Bates's blunt expression of dominance. Collars typically bore the name of the top – never the submissive - so that anyone meeting the sub would know who had collared them, and therefore who they would be messing with if they hurt that sub, or made a move on them.

Rodney ran his fingers over the engraving. Mine. It was so perfect in its simplicity.

He glanced up, into John's worried eyes, and realised that he still hadn't given his lover an answer. He got up, walked to where John was sitting, and knelt down beside him, and then he placed the collar in his top's hand.

"Yours," he whispered, and he saw a flash of joy in John's eyes.

Rodney bent his neck to accept the collar, placing his hands on John's knees. He was trembling slightly as he felt John's fingers gently touching his throat, and the cool caress of metal against his skin, and then there was a little snap as the collar was fastened, and he was, for the first time in his life, a collared sub.

He had never expected it to be such a profound moment. He was collared. He was John's sub now, for all to see, and he felt a sense of relief wash over him. There was no agonising, no decision to be made. He belonged to John now, and he always would, whatever happened. He knew there would never be anyone else for him.

He felt John's fingers on his chin, lifting up his face, and then John took his head in his hands and pulled him in. Their lips met, causing sparks to fizz through Rodney's body. John's mouth was firm and loving on his own, and Rodney opened up, feeling lost in a haze of the most intense emotions.

He was kneeling, a collared sub in front of his top, being kissed, and suddenly, out of nowhere, he felt that warm, sweet sensation flowing between them, more powerful than ever before.

John kissed him for a lifetime, and Rodney clung onto his top's knees, utterly adrift in the moment. Far away he could hear the waves lapping on the shore, and overhead the stars were twinkling in the night sky, and his entire life had become this one, perfect point in time.

When John finally released him, Rodney sank back on his kneels and gazed up at his top, completely enraptured. The cool metal of the collar had that thrill of unfamiliarity against his skin, and he could hear the faint chink of the links as he moved his head.

"Mine" – the word was pressed into his flesh, secret, between him and his top.

He was collared.

John was getting up now. He reached out a hand and pulled Rodney to his feet, and Rodney went, uncharacteristically silent. John led him over to the blankets, and guided him down onto them so that he was lying on his back, and then straddled him.

It was like the first time they'd kissed, out here on this same beach, as John took hold of Rodney's arms and pushed them over his head and claimed his mouth again, only this time it was exponentially different, because this time he was collared. He belonged to John now, and the metal around his throat proved that, for all to see.

Rodney gazed up at his top, dazed, as John started to unbutton his shirt. His top took his time, working slowly, his fingers sliding sensuously under the fabric to tease Rodney's nipples and stroke his chest.

There was no light pollution on Atlantis, and overhead the stars burned a sharp white against the inky black sky. The three Atlantean moons shone in various degrees of brightness, none of them as large or as bright as Earth's moon, but their combined light achieving a similar effect. Rodney shivered; it was hard to get his head around the fact that he was here, on an alien beach in a different galaxy entirely, being undressed by the top who had just collared him.

"You warm enough?" John asked, pausing in his unbuttoning.

"Mmm," Rodney replied. "Just…." He honestly didn't have the words to describe how he was feeling, and why he had shivered. He just gazed up at John helplessly.

"I know," John said softly, understanding. He dipped his head down and kissed Rodney again, a gentle, reassuring kiss this time, and that warmed him from the inside out.

John finished unbuttoning his shirt and slid it away from his body, and Rodney moved his arms, obediently, so that John could strip it from him. Then John ran his fingers through Rodney's chest hair, and gently spidered them over his collar bones, before bending his head to land a soft kiss on each of Rodney's nipples. Rodney sighed as John's tongue lapped out and teased his nipples into little points of arousal. Then John licked a trail up to his jaw and sucked down on his neck, before nibbling affectionately on his earlobe.

Rodney lay completely still on the blankets, surrendering himself to his top's attention. John moved back, and unzipped Rodney's pants, then pulled them and his boxers down to Rodney's ankles. He swiftly stripped Rodney completely naked and threw his clothes onto the nearby chair. Then he paused, and leaned over Rodney again, just gazing at him.

Rodney saw a reflection of himself in John's eyes, lit by the orange flames of the nearby fire. He was lying there, stretched out on the blankets, completely naked save for the strip of metal encircling his throat, and he could see by the expression in John's eyes that this was as profound a moment for him as it was for Rodney.

John reached out a hand and touched the collar, never taking his eyes off Rodney's face as he did so. Rodney gazed back, aware that they were dancing an age-old dance, a top claiming his collared submissive for the first time.

He held his breath as John looked down on him with a fierce expression in those hazel eyes. John was still fully clothed, and Rodney felt like an offering, lying here, naked, laid out at his top's feet for the taking. John reached out and slid a finger along Rodney's cock, which hardened immediately.

"Good," John whispered. "I want you to be hard for me whenever I touch you, Rodney."

Rodney nodded, thinking it was unlikely he'd ever have a problem with that particular order.

"You can come whenever you want this first time," John told him. "But I want you to come more than once tonight, so bear that in mind."

Rodney nodded again, because he seriously doubted that would be a problem, either. He had known John had something good planned for this evening, but he had never imagined it would be *this*. At that moment, John moved his head, quickly and unexpectedly, and Rodney gave a gasp of surprised pleasure as his top's mouth enveloped his cock with one smooth movement.

"Oh shit," he murmured, grabbing handfuls of the blanket. John had never blown him before, and Rodney realised, through a haze of pleasure, that it felt fantastic. John drew back a little, and grinned at him over Rodney's bobbing, glistening penis.

"Keep still for me, Rodney," he ordered. "I want you completely still – I want you to surrender to me. Come in my mouth whenever you're ready, but don't move. If you move I'll punish you."

Rodney shivered. John had never spoken like this to him before, and it was sexy as all hell. He didn't want to be punished – he wanted John to be pleased with him, wanted to give his top everything he asked of him, so he lay there, as quiet as he could be, while John returned to work.

It was hard not to gasp, and move his hips, as John's warm, wet mouth descended on his hard penis again. It felt so damn good! Rodney tried to relax every muscle in his body, gazing up at the black night sky overhead. For awhile he was just his aching cock, merging into the warmth that was John's tongue as it pleasured him. It felt fantastic, and his entire body became boneless as John sucked down hard.

Then the stars above him seemed to be dancing, dizzily, crashing into each other and forming an intense white starburst that exploded inside his mind, and he felt himself coming, his body delivering wave after wave of orgasm, all the more hot and hungry for having been denied all day.

John's mouth remained a constant presence on his cock, milking him for all that he was worth, swallowing his come down until Rodney was done. Then John licked a few last pearly drops from Rodney's slit, and sat up. Rodney was unable to move. He just lay there, gazing at his top adoringly.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Ssh. I'm not done with you yet," John replied. "Watch me."

Then he stood up, and slowly began to undress. His body was lit by the light of the fire, casting him in an orange glow as he slid his vest from his shoulders. Then he unbuttoned his shirt, going as slowly as he had whilst undressing Rodney, never taking his eyes off his naked sub, lying on the blankets beneath him. Rodney gazed back, utterly transfixed.

John removed his shirt to reveal his flat, lean stomach, and firm, hairy chest. Rodney let out an involuntary sigh as John undid his leather pants, and slid them slowly down his long legs, before finally kicking off his boots and socks.

Then he stood there, naked, his big, proud erection pulsing in the light of the fire. Rodney felt a thrill igniting in his belly. John was his top, and he was about to take his collared sub. His recently sated cock gave a tiny twitch of pleasure at that thought.

It honestly didn't get any better than this.

 

~*~


	15. Sharing a Plate

John paused for a moment, to feast on the sight of his submissive. Rodney looked so damn good lying there, naked save for the glinting metal of the collar around his throat; the collar that bore his own name.

John moved slowly down onto the blankets, and pressed his naked body against that of his collared sub. Rodney had been his from the moment John had first taken him, but this was different. Now Rodney wore his collar. He had never collared a sub before so he had no idea that he'd feel like this but he felt a wave of strong emotion – combined possession and protectiveness, mingled with a fierce, overwhelming love.

Rodney's reaction to being collared had been everything he could have hoped for, and more. He'd worried that it was too soon, that Rodney would hand the collar back to him, still boxed, but instead his sub had come to him, knelt before him, and bent his neck to take his collar, and that moment had meant everything to John.

The snap of the clasp, the feel of sleek metal against warm skin, and the look in Rodney's eyes when John had raised his head to meet his gaze….

Now it was time to complete the moment, and seal the collaring with a claiming. John pinned Rodney beneath him, covering his sub's body with his own. He could feel his own cock, hard and leaking pre-come, pressing against Rodney's soft belly.

Rodney's cock was still flaccid, but he could detect it hardening a little, and he smiled to himself. He wanted to take his time, wanted to make love to Rodney for hours on end, and he was sure that Rodney would be fully hard again by the time he allowed his sub to come.

"Now we're back to the rules," John whispered, nuzzling Rodney's ear. "You can't come until I've come. Understand?"

"Yes."

Rodney nodded, his eyes wide with a look John had never seen in them before. Rodney was always transparent but he could also be wary. Now that he was collared, it was as if he was finally allowing John to see everything.

John basked in the warm glow from the fire as he slowly, so very slowly, made love to every single part of his sub's body.

He kissed Rodney's shoulders, his elbows, and each of his fingers, sucking gently on each one. Then he wafted light kisses over Rodney's chest, and paused to suck down a little harder on his sub's nipples, making Rodney gasp and shiver with pleasure. He licked a line down Rodney's chest to his now reviving cock, and lingered for a moment on Rodney's balls. He sucked on them, just gently, then blew on the warmed flesh, making Rodney shiver again. John continued moving down down, kissed each of Rodney's knees, and licked the tips of his toes, before moving back up again. He felt like a panther, lithe and sinuous, feasting on his sub's body as if he was the most delicious prey, and all the while that collar glinted at him, glowing orange in the light of the fire.

"Turn onto your front," John commanded, and Rodney obeyed, instantly, like the good, collared sub that he was. "Open your legs," John ordered and Rodney did that too, opening up wide.

John paused for a moment, and just enjoyed the sight of a naked, spread Rodney, his perfectly plump ass waiting for his top's attention. Rodney looked exquisite in the firelight, his creamy skin so inviting…and again John's attention was drawn to the collar around his sub's neck. Rodney was his. Collared, and naked, and lying here in the most abject, abandoned position, just waiting to be taken.

John forced himself to concentrate, trying to ignore the growing ache in his hard cock. He wanted to take his time, and truly enjoy feasting on his sub's body. His gaze was drawn to the dark, puckered opening between Rodney's legs, and John settled between those spread legs, and parted Rodney's buttocks with his hands. He licked his way over Rodney's firm butt cheeks, and darted his tongue between the round globes of flesh. He loved how Rodney smelled, and how his sub gasped and mewled whenever he was rimmed. He loved the feel of the puckered hole beneath his tongue and the way it glistened, moist with his saliva, when he drew back.

He teased Rodney for a long time, relishing the sounds of his sub's moans, and then he moved his head, and pressed his lips against Rodney's ass.

"Your marks have faded," he murmured. "I think you should always be marked on this beautiful ass. I like to think of you walking around with my mark on you. So I'm going to bite you again. Hold still, Rodney."

He reached out, and held Rodney down with his hands and his own bodyweight, because he knew Rodney would wriggle when he was being bitten, however hard he tried to be still. Rodney was gazing back at him over his shoulder, his eyes dark with arousal, and John knew that Rodney liked being marked as much as he liked marking him.

He found a nice, juicy spot on Rodney's ass, and nuzzled at it. Then he kissed it, and then he licked it with his tongue, before sinking his teeth gently into the flesh. Rodney gave a little muted holler and writhed beneath him, and John held him down, keeping him pinned there, naked and vulnerable under his fierce caress.

He deepened the bite now, and Rodney suddenly went limp and submissive in his arms. That aroused John even more, and he growled into the bite, holding it for a few seconds longer, and then, finally, he released his sub. Rodney immediately reached back to touch the bite mark, and John moved his hand away.

"No touching," he whispered, lapping at the red mark with his tongue to soothe away the pain. It looked beautiful – the most perfect mark, standing out vividly against Rodney's pale flesh. Rodney looked dazed but happy, and John liked him that way.

He reached for the lube he'd thrown onto the blanket earlier, and smoothed it onto his fingers, and then knelt down between his sub's thighs again. It didn't matter how many times he entered Rodney's tight hole, he could never get enough of it. He burned and ached for his sub when he wasn't with him, and fantasised about being inside him.

John slid his fingers into Rodney's hole, teasing the lube around the rim and then slipping inside the tight ring of muscle. Rodney was relaxed and ready for him, but John took his time anyway, finger fucking his sub for several minutes, just enjoying the sight of Rodney lying beneath him, his legs open, his body so enticing.

Then it was time. "Turn over," John said, kissing Rodney's shoulder affectionately. Rodney turned, and his collar flashed in the firelight as he did so. John kissed the collar, and then kissed Rodney's neck, before settling himself between Rodney's thighs again.

"Lift your legs onto my shoulders," he said, and Rodney did as he was told, immediately, without question. John grinned down on his sub. He knew this new, silent Rodney wouldn't last and he didn't want him to, but he loved how responsive his sub was being now that he was wearing a collar.

"We'll go nice and slow," John purred, stroking Rodney's now semi-erect cock with his hand. He took Rodney's buttocks in his hands, and slid his hard cock into Rodney's lubed entrance. "Lie back. Just watch me take you," he said, and Rodney relaxed into the blankets and gazed up at him, his eyes still wide and aroused, completely obedient to John's will.

John entered Rodney slowly, inch by inch. He loved watching his own cock disappear into Rodney's body, loved the way it seemed to open Rodney up, making his body quiver, and causing him to make those beautiful little mewling sounds at the back of his throat. Rodney's body was as accommodating as ever – sometimes John found it hard to believe that his big, blunt cock could fit so perfectly inside Rodney's tight, puckered opening, but it always did, so smoothly.

He slid in as far as he could go, savouring the sensation of Rodney's warm tightness enveloping his hard cock. Then he paused, looking down into Rodney's dazed blue eyes, drinking in the sight of his collared sub beneath him. Finally, he moved his hips back and then thrust them forward again, angling his cock, hoping to hit Rodney's prostate. Rodney's eyes flashed and he let out a moan of pleasure so John figured he'd been successful, and he aimed the same way with each subsequent thrust.

He went slowly – although his need was urgent, he wanted this to last for as long as possible. Every now and then he lowered his head and caught Rodney's lips in his own for a deep, loving kiss. "You're mine now," he said, thrusting inwards. "Collared." He thrust again. "I love you," he added, with a fond smile, moving his hips faster now. "God I love you."

Rodney lay there, arms stretched out on the blanket, just gazing up at him with an expression of naked adoration on his face. He didn't reply – he didn't have to – his answer was written all over his face.

John lost track of time. The fire was still burning, warming their naked skin in the sultry night air, painting their naked bodies in hues of gold. He could hear the sea, and smell the fresh salty air, combined with the scent of his sub, and it was all so good. So incredibly good.

The inky night seemed to caress them, wrapping them in its darkness, while the moons bathed them in their silky silver light. Every now and then, the faint moonlight would catch the white gold metal of Rodney's collar, and whenever that happened John would lean forward and kiss the collar, and then Rodney's lips.

He couldn't hold on any longer. He was moving fast now, slamming his hard cock into his collared sub, making Rodney pant and mewl with every deep thrust, and then he was coming, shouting Rodney's name the way he often did. Just seconds later he saw Rodney's come spurt out too.

John rested for a moment, his forehead against Rodney's forehead, both of them breathing in time as they recovered from their orgasms, and then John gently withdrew from the tight, warm heat of Rodney's body, and settled down beside him, taking his sub in his arms. They lay there, naked and content, top and sub, Rodney's head resting on John's shoulder, gazing up at the stars, the sweat cooling on their warm bodies.

"Have we named this beach yet?" Rodney murmured. "All those mapping expeditions your marines do. Did they name this beach?"

"Mmm. I don't think so," John replied, kissing Rodney's hair. "I don't let just anyone name things y'know."

"Would you let me name this beach?" Rodney asked.

"Depends. What you gonna call it? Sheppard Sands? Rodney's Point?" John asked.

Rodney snorted, and then giggled. "And you think other people shouldn't name stuff! I dunno. I was thinking something for both of us. Not sure what. McSheppard Beach maybe?"

"Hmmm." John kissed Rodney's hair again. "How about Collar Bay?" he asked, his fingers finding the smooth metal on Rodney's neck, and tracing over the engraving of his name. It gave him such a thrill to find it there, nestled so close to Rodney's skin.

"Yeah," Rodney said softly. He turned his head and gazed at John, his eyes bright and happy. "Yes. That's it. Collar Bay."

 

~*~

 

Rodney woke to find the first rosy hints of dawn on the horizon. He was wrapped up in a blanket, his body nestled into John's, both of them entwined, John's hands clasped protectively around his waist. Beside them, the fire had burnt itself out, and the table and chairs a few feet away looked kind of lost and forlorn now that the romance of the night was over.

Rodney moved his head, and heard the sound of his collar chinking. He smiled and reached up immediately to touch the smooth metal, remembering the sultry events of the previous night. He glanced at his top to find John lying there, eyes open and watching him, hair lifting in the light, morning breeze, a little smile on his face.

"Hey. Do you like it?" John asked, reaching out to touch the collar himself, his fingers trailing over Rodney's neck at the same time, as if he couldn't keep his hands off either the collar or Rodney. "The collar is a family heirloom – my parents gave it to me when I was twenty-one and it's sat in the box ever since, waiting for the right person to come along. The identity tag is brand new - I got the engraving on it done by an Athosian artisan yesterday afternoon."

He traced his fingers over the elegant lettering. John Sheppard.

"I didn't want it to say "belongs to", or "property of", like they often do," John continued. "You know what you are to me. Besides, I thought the underside said it well enough – and that's just between you and me."

Rodney ran his finger along the underside, his finger spelling out the single word written there.

"It's perfect," he said, because it was. Perfect and classy.

John leaned over and kissed him, and Rodney's body responded the way it always did to John's touch. There was no time for sex though - the sun was now a glowing ball on the horizon, and it was time to get back to the city. Reluctantly, the two men stood up, both naked and shivering slightly in the cool morning air. Rodney pulled his clothes on quickly and then surveyed the remains of the previous night's meal.

"Leave it," John said, grabbing the blankets. "I'll come back and clear away later."

He took hold of Rodney's hand, and they walked up the beach together towards the jumper. Rodney paused when they got to the grassy verge at the top, and glanced back. The beach curved around, broad and sandy, and the sun was glinting brightly on the tops of the waves, making everything sparkle.

"We'll come back," John said, wrapping an arm around his waist. "A lot."

"Yeah. If the Wraith don't get us, or we don't end up in a Genii prison cell…or worse, one of us ends up trapped somewhere, and the other is halfway across the galaxy powerless to help them and we're separated…." Rodney trailed off, suddenly realising that this kind of intense love brought with it a whole raft of new things to be scared of.

"Ssh." John placed a quiet kiss on the back of his neck. "There's nowhere you could be that I wouldn't come looking for you. I'd take on the whole universe if I had to."

Rodney shivered because there was a tone of such intensity in John's voice. He remembered the way his top had been a couple of days ago, and knew that however jealous he might get of Hicks, and all the people who routinely threw themselves at his top, he would never, ever underestimate the depth of John's love for him. It had a dark edge, but Rodney could handle that. In fact, it helped him relax knowing that John's emotions ran so deep. In the past, Rodney had never been able to let himself go and truly surrender himself to anyone because he doubted them too much. You couldn't doubt John. He was the real deal.

They turned, and walked the rest of the way back to the puddle jumper and then flew across the ocean towards the bright lights of the city. John walked him to the door of his quarters, and then kissed him again.

"I'm gonna take a shower and get changed. I'll drop by and pick you up in about half an hour so we can go to the mess hall," he said.

"I guess it'd be easier if we were living together," Rodney murmured, gazing at his top thoughtfully. He knew John wanted that, and he knew that he did too on some level, especially now that he was collared, but still he wasn't quite there yet.

Giving up his quarters would mean losing the last aspects of his independence, and he wanted some time to get used to being collared before he committed to that. He suspected that being a collared sub brought changes enough of its own – changes that he might not always find easy.

"Yeah, it would, but I'm not hassling about that. In fact, I'm just going to leave that up to you," John told him. "I won't mention it again – just let me know when you're ready."

Rodney nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude towards his top. He never compared John to Bates, because the two tops were so completely different in their view of how to treat a sub, but he knew plenty of tops who wouldn't be happy living apart from their collared sub. It meant a lot to him that John wasn't going to press that issue.

Rodney took a shower and then wandered out into the bedroom, still naked, his hair dripping. He turned, and, catching sight of himself in the mirror, he paused, his eyes going to the flash of metal at his neck. He stopped and took a good look at himself. He looked completely different – to his own eyes at least. His body was more relaxed and loose-limbed than he'd ever seen it – usually he held himself in a stiff, tense way. His skin looked like it was glowing, and there was a perfect red bite mark on his ass. He ran his fingers over it, looking over his shoulder into the mirror. It looked beautiful – his top had placed it on his skin to serve as a constant reminder that he now belonged to the man who had collared him. Rodney tingled just looking at it. He turned and looked at himself more closely, and a collared sub stared back at him, lips curving into a happy grin as he trailed his fingers over his collar.

"Idiot," he told himself, because this kind of ridiculous behaviour wasn't something he expected of himself, but he couldn't help it. He had never expected to be collared, but it had happened, and he felt so good about it he couldn't stop himself from smiling.

He got dressed in his uniform, and surveyed himself again. The sleek metal collar glinted, clearly visible just above the open neck of his shirt. Nobody would be able to miss it. The engraving on it was clear and bold as well – you wouldn't even have to get too close to see who had collared him.

He was still smiling when John dropped by ten minutes later. They walked to the mess hall together, side by side, arms touching, and when they got there, John grinned at him, and pushed him towards the food, while he went and sat down at a table.

Rodney felt ridiculously self-conscious as picked up a tray. When he got to the food he realised, with a wave of panic, that he had no idea what kinds of things John ate for breakfast. His top seemed to know exactly what *he* liked but Rodney had never paid much attention to what John liked. In the end, he decided to heap his tray full of a variety of everything, taking far more than even both of them would be able to eat. Then he walked back over to where John was sitting and put the tray in front of him. John gazed at it, and then burst out laughing.

"I know we used up a lot of calories last night but this is ridiculous," he said. "Are you really this hungry?"

"Nope. Just…oh I have no idea what you eat," Rodney sighed.

"This is so scarily you," John said, still surveying the tray, still laughing.

At that moment Teyla came up, bearing her own tray. She sat down beside them and her gaze immediately fixed on the collar around Rodney's neck. She inclined her head.

"Dr McKay, Colonel Sheppard. I offer you my warmest congratulations. I had wondered when you would collar Dr McKay," she said to John. "I am pleased that it has happened. Our missions will be much simpler now, I think."

Rodney snorted at that. He glanced at the tray, wondering when the hell John was going to start feeding them both.

"Thank you, Teyla." John inclined his head towards her in return. "As for the missions – hopefully, but I think we both have some work to do on that."

"Wait a minute…" Rodney said. "You were wondering when John would collar me? You *knew* about us?"

"Of course. I have watched Colonel Sheppard struggle with his feelings towards you for some time now," she told him. "I have tried to teach him some meditations and simple physical routines to help him cope with his emotions but collaring you was always the best option. I am sure that he will find it easier now."

"Right." Rodney glanced at his top. John just shrugged.

"That time…you know, the planet of the sex-starved tops," he said. "Teyla figured it out from there."

"It took me several hours to bring him down after that expedition," Teyla said, with a little smile in John's direction.

"What she means is that she kicked my ass all around the practice room until she'd worn the fight out of me and then, when I was too exhausted to argue, she told me I had to tell you how I was feeling." John made a face at him. "So I did."

"I also told him he had to apologise for his behaviour towards you. I am sure that it must have been very puzzling for you, Dr McKay," Teyla said.

Rodney didn't reply to that because he was too busy focussing his attention back on the tray, thinking that if he'd been feeding himself he'd probably be done by now. What the hell was taking John so long? It was perfectly possible to talk and eat at the same time!

At that moment Ford bounced up. He sat down beside them, and flashed Teyla one of his boyish grins. Rodney rolled his eyes – all of Ford's boyish grins had so far failed to melt Teyla's heart so he had no idea why Ford kept bothering.

"Man, you must be hungry, Colonel," Ford said, glancing at John's tray. Then he paused, and glanced back again, noticing how the two men only had one tray between them. "Oh shit. Holy freaking shit!" he said, a wide grin spreading from ear to ear. "You're sharing a freaking plate!" His gaze flickered over the collar around Rodney's neck, and then he grabbed John's hand and shook it enthusiastically. "Congratulations sir, although…you know, Rodney?" He made a face. "I think you could'a done better," he said in a conspiratorial undertone that Rodney caught all the same.

"Thank you, Ford," John drawled, in that slow, deadly, ironic way he had. "But I doubt that." He glanced at Rodney with a look that took all the sting out of Ford's words.

"Okay. I'll take your word for it," Ford said. "Way to go, Rodney. Landing the colonel here." He sat back down and stuck a forkful of sausage into his mouth. Rodney envied him.

"If the congratulating is out of the way, can we eat now?" Rodney asked plaintively.

John grinned at him and reached for his fork. "Am I too slow for you?" he said.

"Well, seeing as how you're about the slowest eater I've ever met, Colonel, and McKay is the fastest, I'd have said you two are gonna have some fun mealtimes," Ford grinned.

Rodney glowered at him, and then gazed back at the tray with a meaningful expression on his face. Finally - *finally* - John pushed some eggs onto his fork. He was just about to hold it up to Rodney's mouth when Carson arrived.

"Hey Doc." The fork remained on the plate as Carson sat down beside them and John turned to greet him. Rodney sighed. Carson's blue eyes missed nothing of course - he immediately took in the sight of Rodney's sleek metal collar, and his face broke into a big smile.

"I can see you wasted no time at all, Colonel!" he beamed. "Congratulations to you, laddie. This is the best news!"

He got up and insisted on wrapping John in a big bear hug. Rodney scowled as the fork was now abandoned while John and Carson shared a little toppy celebration. Then Carson was advancing around the table on him and, after a glance to John for permission, was forcing him into a big bear hug too.

"Rodney, I'm so happy for you!" he said, overcome with emotion. "Damn it, why do I always get so misty-eyed when a collaring has taken place?" He wiped the sleeve of his white coat over his eyes. "Honestly, and when I think of the pair of you just a few months ago, sitting at this very table and swearing blind that you were neither of you interested in either collaring or being collared. You, laddie." He fixed John with a fierce glare. "You said it was more trouble than it was worth. And you, laddie." He turned to Rodney and subjected him to an equally fierce glare. "You said it was a total waste of time. And now look at the pair of you! Sitting here, sharing a plate." He gave another of those beaming smiles, his eyes looking suspiciously glassy.

"Yes, well, it isn't a big deal," Rodney said testily.

"Absolutely not," John agreed, nodding, and looking faintly alarmed by Carson's very public display of sentimentality. "I just thought a collar would keep him out of trouble."

"Really?" Ford grinned around his mouthful of food, sounding utterly incredulous. "Because, you know, this is McKay we're talking about here."

"Yes, thank you, Ford," Rodney glowered.

"Was it a romantic moment?" Carson asked, with a little sigh, one hand on each man's shoulders. "I do love hearing about romantic collarings."

John and Rodney glanced at each other, and Rodney felt John's foot press very firmly on his toes under the table.

"Not really," they both said, shaking their heads.

"Nah. We don't really go in for all that hearts and flowers type stuff," John added.

Rodney gazed at him across the table, remembering a candlelit table on a beach, a roaring fire, and the stars overhead as they made love, waves lapping gently on the seashore just yards away.

"Yeah. Not our style. Not a romantic bone in our bodies, remember?" Rodney said.

"Hmm." Carson gazed at them both suspiciously. "Okay, lads, if that's the way you want to play it." He clapped them both on the shoulders again.

Rodney's eyes lit up as he saw John pick up the fork once more, and he didn't notice Carson getting up to stand on his chair until it was too late.

"Listen up, people – there's been a collaring!" Carson hollered to the entire mess hall. "Brave man that he is, our own good Colonel Sheppard has decided to collar the redoubtable Dr McKay!"

He started clapping his hands, and a ripple of applause went around the room. People started to get up and come over, and Rodney's heart sank as they were surrounded by a crowd wanting to shake John's hand, and take a look at Rodney's collar. Now there was no chance of breakfast as they dealt with the tumult around them.

Carson settled down at the table again, pushed his spoon into his bowl of cereal, and fixed Rodney with a beaming smile. "Well, if you will lie to your doctor, laddie, you must accept the consequences," he said, and then he broke out laughing at Rodney's glowering response.

Rodney never did get to eat his breakfast. He ended up grabbing a donut on his way to the lab, and rushed in half an hour late for work, grinning at everyone on his way to his workstation because, despite missing breakfast, and the embarrassment of everyone standing around looking at his neck, it *had* been pretty damn cool to show off to the world that *he* was now Colonel John Sheppard's collared sub.

Miko glanced up, as she always did when he entered the room, and started to give him one of her respectful little bows – and then paused as she caught sight of the metal around his neck. She gave an audible gasp, got up, and went into one of the most elaborate bowing rituals Rodney had ever seen her give.

"Dr McKay! Oh…Dr McKay! You have been collared. I am so happy for you. Who is the person you have honoured with your submission? Oh…I see it is Colonel Sheppard!"

Rodney detected a note of disappointment in her eyes and wondered whether that crush she had on his brain might also have extended to his body, or whether she just didn't think John was worthy of him. Although, judging by the look in her eyes, he doubted she thought *anyone* was worthy of him.

"I do hope that you and the colonel will be very happy," she said. "And if you are not then you must not stay with him," she added firmly.

"Yes, thank you. I'll be sure to bear that in mind," Rodney replied, wondering if he was going to be able to avoid a repeat of all the fuss that had just taken place in the mess hall.

It was not to be. Those of his staff who hadn't been in the mess hall all came up to congratulate him. Now that he was collared, nobody shook his hand or touched his arm, and he noticed the difference immediately. It gave him a tiny little thrill. His body was now the very public property of John Sheppard. The collar proclaimed it, and the rules of their own society acknowledged it. Nobody would touch him from now on without seeking John's permission first.

"Yes, yes, yes, thank you everyone but could we please get back to work!" Rodney announced, after it had all gone on for long enough in his view. Much as he enjoyed being the centre of attention he wasn't used to it, and it freaked him out a little. Plus - he was starving! The crowd around him finally dispersed and he reached for his donut longingly, his stomach now rumbling alarmingly – and then caught sight of Radek, gazing at him steadily from his work station.

"Did you want to congratulate me too?" he growled.

"Not really." Radek gave a tight little smile, and Rodney felt vaguely insulted. "I mean, is good if belonging to another person is what you want." He gave a dismissive little shrug.

Rodney frowned. "Hello! Sub!" He pointed at himself.

"Yes, yes. I know." Radek shrugged again. "Toppy sub who terrorises all under his command," he muttered to himself as he turned away.

"Radek, do you have a problem with me?" Rodney asked, surprised by Radek's tone. Radek turned back to him, his expression softening.

"No, no I do not. I just…you said many times you were not interested in top in your life and now...poof!" Radek threw up his hands dramatically. "I thought maybe you were one of the more sensible ones, despite many indications that you are complete raving madman most of the time. No, please, do not listen to me. This is happy occasion, yes? Congratulations, Rodney."

Rodney leaned in close, trying to keep their conversation as private as possible. He was surprised to find that Radek's lack of enthusiasm actually hurt him a little. He hadn't realised how much he'd come to view Radek as a good friend.

"Did you have your eye on John yourself?" he asked, with a little grin, trying for some humour.

"No. Am not sub," Radek told him.

"Well you sure as hell didn't have your eye on me," Rodney snorted.

"No." Radek rolled his eyes. "Am not top, either. Or switch. Also, not interested in men. Only women." He said that in a defiant little whisper, as if scared of Rodney's response. Rodney rocked back on his heels, finally figuring it out. It didn't bother him at all – hell, after his upbringing he was hardly one to judge.

"Ah. I see. Pervert," he grinned, defusing the situation with a joke. Radek shook his head and gave a little snort of laughter, visibly relaxing.

"I tell Colonel Sheppard you go around hugging us all today," he said. Rodney's grin faded.

"Don't even joke about it," he said.

"Or that you are rude to Lady Elizabeth. That you like to polish Miko's shiny boots. That you disobey his orders when he is not around. Yes?"

Rodney snorted, and shook his head. "Man, I'm so screwed, you pervy little blackmailer."

Radek grinned at him, and Rodney grinned back. He might not identify with Radek's frankly weird sexuality, but he hadn't realised how much the Czech scientist's good opinion mattered to him. Radek was one of those people who crept up on you – one minute he was just Rodney's lab dogsbody, and next he realised the guy was one of his closest friends.

Elizabeth dropped by the lab later that morning.

"Busy?" she asked him, her gaze flickering to the collar around his neck, although she made no mention of it. Something about the way she asked the question made it abundantly clear that unless the city was under attack then the right answer to her question should be "no".

"Always," he replied instead. "But I can spare you half an hour."

"I'm honoured." She inclined her head towards him with a little smile. He expected to go to her office, but she walked him instead down to the east pier. They stood there, looking out over the sunlit ocean, and Rodney wondered what this was all about. She didn't say anything for a long time, and he found himself fidgeting nervously. Then, finally, she turned to him, and her eyes were serious.

"Rodney, you're not one of my submissives, but I've always had a special soft spot for you, as you know," she said.

"Uh, not really," he murmured, surprised. She frowned at him.

"Rodney," she said softly, in a chiding tone. They went back a long way, she and him. She'd always championed him, even when he'd been deeply unpopular with the SGC. Despite his brilliance, they found him a nuisance, and he'd had run-ins with various high-ranking officials who hadn't taken too kindly to his manner. Elizabeth had seen past that, and it had been at her express command that he'd been appointed Head of Science on this expedition.

"Okay. Yes," he agreed, flushing slightly.

"I was upset that you were so unhappy during our early days here, and now – well, I only have to look at you to see that you're thriving, and I believe that's because you've found the right top," she said, and her gaze flickered to the name on his collar again. "However…I wanted to check that you know what you're doing. John Sheppard is a good man – I like him enormously – but is he what you want? I never thought I'd see you collared to be honest. You were always so dead set against it, and your personality doesn't take kindly to being curbed, even by the kindest of tops. And I'm not entirely sure that Sheppard is likely to be a particularly lenient dominant, despite your obvious personal chemistry with him."

Rodney gazed at her, aghast. She sighed.

"Rodney, before I left Earth, I had a collared submissive," she told him. "At one point I had several, but over the course of time I realised that it was more rewarding for me, on a personal level, to have only one. Simon was a doctor. He was an extremely willing submissive, and I loved him very much. He was respectful and kind, excellent at his job, and we had many things in common. And yet…." She sighed again, and examined her hands. "When I knew I was coming on this expedition, I asked him to come with me. He was collared, but we weren't married. I knew he loved me, but he loved his job too…and, despite our love and obvious compatibility, he chose to stay behind. I had no option but to rescind his collar – I could hardly expect him to wait for me to come back from god knew where, and he was a submissive who required a strong and loving top. He would have been unhappy alone. I had to set him free."

"Why are you telling me all this, Elizabeth?" Rodney asked quietly. Elizabeth was an extremely private person, and he felt honoured that she had shared this with him – but at the same time confused as to what she was getting at.

"Because you are too important to this expedition, and to me, personally, for you to be unhappy. We've all seen the consequences of you being unhappy and it's not something that I, for one, wish to go through again," she said, in a heartfelt tone. Rodney shut his eyes, briefly, and his breath caught in his throat as he remembered the humiliation and pain of the judicial punishments he'd endured.

"Me neither," he muttered.

"I feel that I failed you then and I don't want to fail you again," she told him firmly. "It's hard to live and work so closely together – and a collaring isn't a marriage. I thought that Simon would wear my collar forever but life didn't work out that way."

"You're afraid of what will happen if John and I split up," Rodney said slowly. She shook her head.

"I know life doesn't come with any guarantees," she said. "I just need to know, after all those issues with Bates, that you've thought this through – that you weren't just swept up in the moment. I can see that you're clearly happy with Sheppard – I've never seen you look so good to be honest – but wearing someone's collar is about more than just the excitement and romance. Sometimes submission is hard, Rodney. Hell, dominance is too!" She gave a little laugh. "Some subs refuse to be collared – they know themselves well enough to know they could never truly submit to anyone else, despite their sexual inclinations."

"You think I'm one of those subs?" Rodney asked.

"No. I don't. I think that you'll find safety, security and contentment in your collar," she told him. "And I think those are things you've craved for a very long time. But they come with a price."

"I love him," Rodney told her, shaking his head. "And I trust him. I don't know what else to say."

"That is all I wanted to hear," she said softly, smiling for the first time. "Now, I spoke to Colonel Sheppard earlier, and he gave me permission to do this."

She took hold of his shoulders, and bestowed a kiss on each of his cheeks. He remembered how she'd kissed his forehead when he'd been injured, and he felt an enormous wave of loyalty and respect for her. She had been trying to give him an opening today, a way to admit if he wasn't entirely happy, and he had clearly banished any doubts she had on that score.

"Congratulations, Rodney," she told him, smiling broadly now. "I hope you'll be very happy."

"Well I thought I was going to be but you've freaked me out now!" he complained. She laughed out loud.

"I just needed to be sure," she said drawing back, smiling at him fondly, one hand resting on his cheek. "To be honest, I think he's good for you. But finding your submission isn't easy. There will be times when you'll find it very hard indeed, but I don't think you'll ever seriously doubt that you made the right decision when you bent your head to take his collar. He has an intensity that I hadn't suspected at first – I think I was taken in, as we all were, by that casual exterior. And although the road can, sometimes, be hard, I envy you the journey, with all its ups and downs. I loved having a collared sub, and one day I hope to collar someone again. It's as beautiful as it can be hard. I would never have guessed that you and Sheppard of all people would end up together, but you make a strange kind of sense! You complement each other somehow."

She smiled at him again, and then her demeanour changed, and became much more brisk and businesslike, and he realised just how honoured he had been to get a little glimpse of the woman behind the leader.

"I hope you find someone," he said, quickly. "Although, frankly, I'm not sure if anyone around here is good enough for you."

She grinned. "I felt the same way about you," she said. "As I'm sure Colonel Sheppard will tell you when you see him. I gave him quite a grilling. I wanted to be sure he knew what he was taking on, how he felt about you, and that he'd treat you properly."

"Oh god. What did you say to him?"

"That you'd be a handful, that you'd drive him insane at times, and did he know what he was getting into," she said. He felt himself bristling at that but she calmed him with a look. "And that you were special, and that you'd be worth it," she added softly.

He gazed at her, feeling a little winded. She grinned. "Now, I've kept you from your work for long enough. I know how busy and important you are." She gave him a sly wink at that. "See you later, Rodney."

She took off, a willowy, compact figure in her tight red leather suit. She always looked so in control and in command. He'd never guessed the heartache that lay behind that calm façade.

He tried to imagine what would happen if he or John got a job offer somewhere else, and the other one didn't want to go with them. His work had always been the most important thing in his life up until now but he was starting to see that there was a whole lot more to this collar around his neck than just regular sessions of extremely hot sex.

"Hey," a voice broke into his reverie and he turned to see John striding up the hallway towards him. John put a hand on his shoulder, and guided him back out onto the pier without even breaking his stride. Rodney was suddenly acutely aware of the ease and familiarity of John's touch on his body. It had only been a morning, but already he could feel the vast difference between the way others avoided touching him compared with John's casual ease and sense of ownership when handling his body. "You just have the big conversation with Elizabeth?" John asked, looking a little grim.

"Yeah." Rodney made a face at him. "Kind of brought me down to earth," he said with a sigh.

"Me too. But she's right in a way. We've never talked about where this is going for us, or even how our dynamic will pan out. I just…" John hesitated and then looked him squarely in the eye. "I meant what I said about us taking the journey together," he said. "This is as new to me as it is to you. I never thought I'd collar anyone – just as you never thought you'd accept anyone's collar. I don't have all the answers and I doubt I ever will, but maybe we need to talk about the issue. I've never been the kind of top who wanted to share a plate with anyone before, or who got jealous when my sub was touched, and as for the way I got a couple of days ago when you were wearing the shield and when I thought you'd died…hell, this stuff is all new to me."

"And me," Rodney agreed.

"Where…" John licked his full lower lip, looking agitated. "Where do you want to go with your submission, Rodney? I can take you down as far as you want to go, but I never want to change you. I like you being you too much."

"I'm just going to trust you to get it right – and I'll tell you if you don't," Rodney replied. "I've never trusted anyone enough to even attempt it before but with you…it's different. To be honest, I don't think I ever found my own subspace before you came along and it's not always easy getting there, but when I'm in that zone it all feels so damn good. I want you to go further, John. I want you to test my limits."

"Damn it." John glanced around. "I wish I could test them right now. It's making me feel horny just talking about it." He placed his hands on Rodney's butt and pulled him in close, resting their foreheads together. "I know what she was trying to say, and I accept it will sometimes be hard, but you're mine, Rodney, and I will never, ever, voluntarily rescind your collar, whatever happens."

Rodney wrapped his big hands around John's back and stroked him, feeling the intensity of emotion vibrating along the hard lines of John's muscles. Despite everything, he couldn't help but think that maybe Elizabeth's reality check had done them both good.

Rodney was reminded of his conversation with Elizabeth just a few days later, when the team went on a trading mission to a world Teyla had visited in the past.

"The Athosians have traded with them many times. They are good people," she told Rodney, as they began the two day walk to the village.

"People who make us walk through forests for two days just because they're afraid of technology don't get included in my definition of 'good'," Rodney grumbled, disliking the weight of his pack on his shoulders, and the continuous trickle of sweat that was pooling in the small of his back.

"They are not afraid," Teyla replied calmly. "They simply believe that technology is an insult to their gods, and refuse to allow it into their dwellings."

"Well more fool them," Rodney groused. "I'm sure they'd be a lot happier if they had electricity and running water but no, they prefer to keep things natural because their 'gods' say so."

"You're just pissed because we have to walk to meet them rather than take the jumper," Ford grinned, meandering along like an over-energetic puppy, seemingly completely untroubled by the weight of his pack.

"Hello! Yes. I am!" Rodney said, rolling his eyes at how obvious that statement was.

"At least it's not raining," John commented, in that annoyingly cheerful tone he sometimes adopted. "Remember last time we had to go trekking like this? It rained the whole time."

"Whereas now it's just blazingly hot," Rodney snapped, glancing up at the two baking suns that were shining down on them relentlessly. "So we won't drown but we might well burn to death. Thank god I brought my sunscreen."

They reached the edge of the settlement a day and a half later, and Teyla stopped.

"We must not take guns or any electrical equipment into the village," she said earnestly.

"Okay. I'm not exactly happy about the guns thing but as you can vouch for these people I'll live with it," John sighed, unholstering various items of weaponry and handing them to Ford. Finally, he and Teyla both removed their radios and handed them over too. "Right – Ford, McKay – you both stay here and guard the equipment. Teyla and I will go talk to the natives."

"You mean we walked all this way just to stand outside?" Rodney asked plaintively.

"It should not take too long," Teyla said. "We will pay our respects to them, and, if they are happy to trade with us, then they will invite us into their circle for refreshments."

"Fine. I just hope the refreshments are damn good to make up for all this walking," Rodney groused.

"Be good, Rodney," John said, gazing at him meaningfully as he set off with Teyla.

Rodney rolled his eyes at his top's back as John disappeared into the village. Then Rodney removed his pack, and used it as a seat, picked up his laptop and opened it up. This whole mission was a giant waste of time as far as he was concerned, and he had zero patience for people who weren't interested in technology – or people who believed in 'gods' for that matter.

"You shouldn't really be using that here," Ford said, leaning against a tree. "These people aren't comfortable with technology. Why'd you even bring it with you?"

"Because I suspected I might end up alone with you and thought it would be a good diversion?" Rodney suggested irascibly. Ford was okay, but his sly digs always rubbed Rodney up the wrong way, and he hadn't forgiven the lieutenant for telling John that he could do better than Rodney.

"Whatever. Man, I have no idea what the colonel sees in you," Ford muttered.

Rodney ignored him, and continued working on his laptop. He detected a strange energy reading, and frowned, then opened up the parameters to get more of a fix on it.

"Shit," he said, dropping the laptop as if it was white hot.

"What?" Ford reached instinctively for his gun.

"This…is amazing." Rodney picked up the laptop again, completely stunned. "I wonder if Teyla's technophobe friends would like to explain how, on a planet with no technology, there's a massive energy source sitting right over…there." Rodney twirled round, and then pointed over to one side, towards a clearing, still tracking the energy reading on the laptop. He started walking towards it.

"McKay! Hey, McKay – where are you going?" Ford called.

Rodney kept on walking. "To find the source of this reading of course."

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Ford said.

"Are you kidding? Or maybe you don't understand." Rodney turned, irritated. "An energy source this big can only belong to one thing – a ZPM."

"Great. I know we need one. But the colonel told us to wait here."

"Well yes, but that's because he didn't know I'd find a ZPM over *there*," Rodney said slowly, as if explaining things to an imbecile.

"Why don't we just wait until he comes back and then we can all go look for it together?" Ford suggested.

"Why wait?" Rodney screwed up his face into a frown. "It's a ZPM, Ford! With this, I'll be able to get Atlantis working properly again! We'll have a shield, something to protect us from the Wraith! Don't you understand what that means?"

"Sure. I just don't see why we can't wait for the colonel," Ford said, gazing anxiously back in the direction of the village. "Besides, you're assuming that these people will just hand it over to us."

"They probably will," Rodney said happily. "It's no use to them after all – they don't even use technology. They probably think it's just some pretty Ancient artefact that's been lying around the place for a few thousand years. We could trade them a few crates of chocolate for it and they'd probably be happy enough."

He carried on walking, and a few seconds later he heard Ford run up behind him.

"Aren't you scared the big bad colonel will tell you off for disobeying his orders?" Rodney taunted, amused by how seriously Ford was taking this.

"Yeah – but I'm even more afraid of living without my balls after he's torn them off because I let you wander off alone and something bad happened to you," Ford snorted.

"Well, thank you for sharing that mental image," Rodney replied, making a face. "But you're making a big deal out of nothing. These people don't even have guns, remember, and we do."

They reached the clearing, and found a sunken temple.

"Hah," Rodney said. "As I thought. Clearly some kind of Ancient ruin."

He opened a rusty old door and walked inside, still tracking the energy source on his laptop, and then stopped short. There, in the centre of the temple, sitting on an altar and glowing very prettily, was a ZPM.

"My god. It's just *sitting* there. In plain sight!" Rodney cooed, entranced by it. He had been looking for a ZPM for months, and now they'd just stumbled across one like this. He walked over to it, and examined the altar. "It's cradled in some incredibly primitive device that makes it light up – and nothing else! It performs no other function!" he exclaimed incredulously. "They've got the most powerful source of energy in the galaxy sitting here and they're using it as a lightbulb!" He reached out, and pulled the ZPM off the altar.

"Uh, doc – we can't just walk off with it," Ford said.

"Why not? I told you – they're using it to make pretty lights," Rodney snorted. "They don't *deserve* to have a ZPM. It's a total waste of its power and resources."

He turned and started walking back to where he'd left his pack, Ford close on his heels.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Ford said.

"ZPM! ZPM!" Rodney told him, too excited to think straight. He was already making a mental inventory of all the systems in the city that he could get working now he had a fully powered ZPM. It made him go tingly all over just at the thought of it.

"Uh…McKay. You know that bad feeling I had?" Ford muttered.

Rodney looked up. Ahead of them was a little crowd of villagers. They didn't have any weapons but they didn't look very happy. They were spread out, creating a little wall between Rodney and his pack.

"I'll take care of this," Rodney said, stepping forward. "Good people, I saw…" he began, and then stopped as the crowd started to hum, menacingly, as they advanced on them. "Oh shit," he hissed.

"This – is scarier than if they were armed," Ford said, standing back to back with Rodney and holding up his gun helplessly. The crowd kept pushing forward until they had created a humming ring around Rodney and Ford. None of them spoke, and they wouldn't answer Rodney's repeated questions – they just stood there, humming threateningly.

Then, suddenly, without warning, the humming stopped.

"Oh thank god," Rodney said.

An old man pushed his way into the clearing, and with him were John and Teyla. John's body was tight and anxious, and he sought out Rodney and checked him over with his eyes to satisfy himself his sub was unharmed, and then visibly relaxed.

"What is the meaning of this?" the chieftain asked, gazing at Rodney.

"I have no idea!" Rodney replied. "One minute we were just walking along and the next they surrounded us and they were all *humming*."

"I mean – this." The chieftain pointed at the ZPM Rodney was clutching. "Why have you removed the Sacred Jewel of Bathsheba from her awnings?"

"The what? From her what?" Rodney frowned. "This isn't a sacred artefact," he sighed irritably. "It's a ZPM. A Zero Point Module. It…."

"Dr McKay," Teyla cut in. "I believe that it might be a ZPM to you, but to these people it *is* a scared artefact," she said.

"He took it from the temple, Janul," one of the villagers told the chieftain, glaring at Rodney. "He went in there with his device, and removed the sacred jewel with his own hands."

"Now look, if Rodney's made a mistake then he's happy to just hand the, uh, sacred jewel back," John said, stepping into the fray. "He just didn't recognise it. He thought it was something else."

"I thought it was a ZPM and that's exactly what it bloody well…" Rodney paused, taking in the dark expression on John's face. "A sacred jewel? Right. I can see that now. Fine. Okay."

"Give it back, Rodney," John said, in a warning voice.

"You don't think these nice people might like to trade the pretty sacred jewel for something else?" Rodney hazarded. "Like chocolate?"

"Take a look around you, Rodney," John said firmly. "Do they look like people who want to trade with us right now?"

Rodney glanced around, noticing the hostile faces, and the sense of anger that was bristling from the entire community.

"Not exactly," he admitted.

"So hand over the ZPM and then maybe we should take our leave and go," John said, slowly and calmly.

"Okay," Rodney squeaked, finally realising that he might actually be in danger from people he had dismissed as unarmed simpletons. He edged forward, and placed the ZPM on the floor, at the chieftain's feet.

The chieftain gave him a look of such haughty disdain that he wanted to crawl into a hole in the ground and die – and right now, he was thinking that might be a preferable option to walking back to the gate with an angry John Sheppard.

"You people have come in here and violated all we hold dear," Janul said.

"So, I'm guessing the trading is off?" John ventured. Janul stared at him mirthlessly. "Okay. Like I thought. Right…so, how about we just back off and return to where we came from?" John suggested. "We won't come back again. We'll just turn around and go home. Peacefully," he added pointedly. Janul gazed at him dispassionately.

"I think that would be best," he said. "Teyla, you are no longer welcome here, either. I wish you had not brought these violators with you. Please leave – now. We are a peaceful people but you have hurt us deeply. My people will not be able to tolerate your presence on our soil for much longer, and I cannot vouch for what they will do if you do not leave immediately."

"Okay, we know when we're not wanted. Ford, McKay. Let's get moving," John said. Rodney ran after the others as they took off, backing slowly away from the outraged villagers until they felt safe enough to turn tail and walk out of there. "Rodney, you're with me," John ordered, and Rodney fell into step beside his top. John reached out and his fingers dug, a little too hard, into Rodney's neck. "And please don't leave my sight until we're home," John hissed into his ear. Rodney swallowed, hard. This was bad on so many levels.

"My pack!" he said, suddenly remembering that he'd left it behind. "I don't have my pack!"

"Well we're not going back to get it," John said grimly. "Somehow I don't think they'd take very kindly to that, do you?"

"But, it's got my water, power bars, MREs, bedroll, everything!" Rodney wailed.

"I don't care. Now keep moving," John said, his fingers digging even harder into Rodney's neck as he propelled him along the dusty track through the trees.


	16. The Punishment

They walked for several hours straight, nobody saying a word. Rodney could sense the angry tension pouring from his top's stiff body and he didn't dare open his mouth to say anything, although a whole torrent of complaints were just on the tip of his tongue.

Whenever he lagged behind, or if he moved too much over to one side, John would click his fingers at him and point to a position by his side. Rodney didn't dare protest so he just hurried up to where John wanted him to be – which was basically within distance of his hand at all times. Rodney was pretty sure that that was so that if he made so much as one complaint, John had easy access to the back of his head to slap it.

Rodney had plenty of time to dwell on what had happened as they walked, and, while at first he felt defiant and angered by the confrontation with the villagers, he soon felt that ebb away, leaving him to face up to the very unpleasant realisation that their current situation was pretty much all his fault. He was fairly sure that John would see it that way too.

Rodney, for all his faults, was always honest at owning up when he'd made a mistake, and this wasn't any different. He started berating himself within fifteen minutes of leaving the village and continued for the next several hours, silently going over the whole event, and kicking himself every step of the way.

Finally, when the village was a very long way behind them and John was sure they weren't being followed, they stopped. Teyla, John and Ford all reached for their canteens of water, and Rodney watched them, miserably. He was so thirsty that his dry mouth was all he could think about, but he'd lost his own canteen and with the atmosphere the way it was, he didn't dare ask anyone for any of their water.

Teyla pulled out a power bar and took a bite, and Rodney licked his lips. He was hungry too, although his thirst over-rode just about any other sensation.

"Rodney – come here."

John pointed at a spot in front of his feet, and Rodney went over obediently. John placed the canteen of water against his lips and Rodney drank, gratefully. John let him drink his fill, before replacing it in his pack. Then he pulled out a power bar. Rodney looked away. He didn't seriously expect to be fed – the water might be a biological necessity but considering he'd screwed up the entire mission, *and* lost his own pack into the bargain, he wasn't expecting any more kindness. John snapped the bar in half, and then held it up to Rodney's lips. Rodney shook his head, unable to accept it.

"I screwed up. I'm sorry," he muttered.

"Yes you did," John said calmly.

"We will pool our rations and share them," Teyla said, breaking off some of her power bar.

"No we won't," John replied. "Rodney wears my collar so I'm responsible for him. If he screwed up then I'll go short with him, but there's no reason why anyone else should. Now eat," John commanded. Rodney gazed at him mutely. "You really don't want to disobey another one of my orders today," John told him, in a hard tone.

Rodney opened his mouth and accepted the power bar immediately at that. He had never enjoyed eating anything less – it tasted like dust on his tongue. John fed him the rest of his half of the power bar and then gave him some more to drink, before replacing the cap on the canteen and putting it back in his pack. Then he glanced around.

"Okay. I'm going to keep this short because we still have some distance to cover before we can set up camp for the night. Ford – why did you disobey my orders?" John asked. Ford came to attention immediately in front of John.

"Sorry, sir. We got readings on the ZPM and thought it was worth checking out," he said.

Rodney shook his head. "He's being all noble. The truth is that he wanted to stay where you left us but I wanted to investigate the readings. I went off, and he was left with a decision as to whether to stay behind, or keep me company. He thought you'd be more annoyed with him if he let me go off alone than if he came too, so that's why he ran after me."

"Okay. I see. Well, Ford, you were right," John said. "Okay people." He picked up his pack again. "Let's get moving."

"Is that it?" Rodney said. "One question and you're done?"

"Oh no, Rodney. I'm not done, not by a long shot," John told him, in a tone that made Rodney shiver. "I just wanted to find out Ford's contribution to this giant fuckup. Now I know. We'll talk about your part in it when we get home. In private."

"Right. Okay. That sounds bad," Rodney gulped, doing an agitated dance at John's side as they set off again. "Is it as bad as it sounds?"

John glanced at him coolly. "I'd say yes," he replied, and then his hand came up to rest on Rodney's shoulder again, and, despite his anxiety, that calmed Rodney down, the way it always did. There was something warm and affectionate about his top's touch that reassured him, even if the hand felt a little heavy, and there was a note of warning in the caress.

They stopped for the night a few hours later. Teyla and John set up the tents while Rodney and Ford made a campfire on the forest floor.

"So, you okay?" Ford asked him, glancing over at where John was silently pitching the tent. "Is he really mad at you?"

"Yeah," Rodney replied miserably. "He is."

"I'm sorry about that," Ford said, and he sounded as if he meant it. "D'you think he'll give you a licking when we get home?"

Rodney's stomach did a little flip. He'd been studiously trying not to even think about what was going to happen when they got home. He and John had never even talked about discipline, and he had no idea what John's response might be to his behaviour earlier. So far, being collared had been all about incessant sex and more kissing than he'd done in his life to date so far, but he knew that being collared brought with it other responsibilities too – on both sides.

Before being collared, the most he might have expected after today's fuck-up was a snappy lecture about disobeying his team leader's orders, together with a reprimand from Elizabeth when they got home. Now that he was collared, things were different – and he was suddenly acutely aware of that fact.

"I really have no idea," he sighed. "Probably."

His stomach lurched again at that. John hadn't punished him once since he'd taken him as his sub, and Rodney suddenly remembered Elizabeth's words about John not being a lenient top. He wondered if she was right, and how he felt about that. John had shown a fairly light touch so far but maybe there was a small yearning in every sub to know exactly what the boundaries were and how much (or little) your top would allow you to get away with.

Rodney clasped his hands around his knees and gazed at the fire Ford had managed to get lit. Ford sat down beside him.

"Here," he said.

Rodney looked down and saw two squares of chocolate in Ford's hand. He glanced at Ford, and saw a look of empathy in the other man's eyes. Their former long-standing, low-level quarrel was now forgotten – at this moment in time they were both just subs who knew what it was like to be in trouble.

"Thanks," Rodney said, taking the chocolate and slipping it into his mouth. The gesture warmed him as much as the chocolate itself, and he started to feel a little less miserable.

They ate a silent meal around the fire. John shared his MRE scrupulously with Rodney, feeding him one spoonful for each of his own, but it was barely adequate, especially after the long day's walking.

Then came the moment Rodney dreaded. Teyla and Ford disappeared into one tent, and John went into the other. Rodney stayed out by the fire for a long time, just staring at the flames, delaying the inevitable. Finally, John stuck his head out of the tent.

"Rodney," he said, and his voice was weary, as if he had very little patience left.

Rodney got up immediately, went over to the tent, and slid inside. He had no bedroll, so he was resigned to a chilly night. He lay down, stiffly, on his back, and stared miserably at the canvas ceiling.

"Oh for god's sake." John reached out, and pulled him into the warmth of his own bedroll. "On your side. It'll be snug but we can fit," John said, holding him close and zipping up the sleeping bag around them both. "You didn't seriously think I'd make you sleep over there in the cold, did you?" John asked, his voice low and soft in Rodney's ear.

"I probably deserve it," Rodney muttered.

"I'll decide what you deserve," John told him. "And I'm not going to let my much loved sub freeze his ass off – it gets damn cold on this planet at night as you well know."

He wrapped his arms tightly around Rodney's body, and Rodney felt a warm, gentle kiss being pressed to the back of his neck. He lowered his head and kissed the patch of bare arm that was wrapped around his upper chest, feeling his body finally starting to relax. He knew he was still in trouble, but he didn't feel so miserable any more.

"Idiot," John whispered, kissing him again. Rodney smiled to himself. He *was* an idiot, yes, but he was also, apparently, a much loved idiot.

The atmosphere was much better the following day. Rodney was more relaxed after having spent the night in his top's arms, and John was smiling again which was a good sign. Rodney could almost forget that some kind of retribution lay in wait for him beyond the stargate – almost.

They spent several hours walking and finally arrived at the gate late in the afternoon planet time – mid-evening Atlantis time. Rodney was starving by this point, but funnily enough any sensation of hunger faded the minute they walked through the gate to find Elizabeth waiting on the other side.

"No luck then?" she said, seeing their disconsolate, weary faces. "They didn't want to trade with us?"

"We didn't exactly get that far," John replied. "Rodney – would you go and wait in my quarters please. I'll be along just as soon as I've given my Lady a full account of the mission."

"Right. Your quarters. Okay," Rodney said, biting on his lip. He caught the flash of sympathy in Ford's eyes as he walked past, and the mouthed, "good luck buddy" but it didn't make him feel any better.

He walked slowly to John's quarters and let himself in, then sat down. He would have liked a long shower and a good meal right now but he didn't dare budge from where he was. Somehow, he suspected that when John got back he'd expect his submissive to be ready and waiting for him, and not taking a shower, or shovelling food into his mouth. He felt too warm so he got up, removed his jacket and boots, and then sat down again. His feet ached from all the walking, and he was tired and miserable.

He ran his fingertips over the collar around his neck. Elizabeth had said that sometimes it would be difficult and he was really seeing that right now. He tried to consider whether it would be better not to be a collared sub in this situation. John would still be annoyed with him, collared or not, and, instead of coming here after the mission, he'd have gone to his quarters and stewed about how badly he'd screwed up there instead. That wasn't a very appealing option, either. At least this way there might be an eventual resolution, even if it got pretty painful along the way.

The door swished open and Rodney got to his feet, his stomach flip-flopping again, like a dying fish. John walked in, and began to remove his jacket. Rodney watched him, cautiously. He considered for the first time that John might *not* punish him, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that, either. John hung his jacket over the back of the chair and then turned to survey his sub.

"Was Elizabeth mad at me?" Rodney asked, wishing his voice hadn't just cracked so obviously as he spoke.

"She's more mad at me I think," John said, with a shrug.

"You? Why? You didn't do anything," Rodney said, stricken.

John shook his head. "Have you forgotten that it's my collar you're wearing? I gave you an order and you disobeyed it. She thinks that's my fault for not ensuring you knew that obeying me while on an offworld mission is not optional."

"Oh for god's sake! You couldn't possibly have known…" Rodney began.

"I agree with her," John interrupted him. "She was speaking to me as one top to another, and I could see she wasn't very impressed by my control over my sub. I'd feel the same if I'd taken Lorne out and one of his subs had done something similar."

"Damnit!" Rodney wrapped his arms around his body, even more distressed than before.

"So. We need to talk," John said, grabbing a chair, turning it round, and sitting on it back to front, his long legs stretched wide around it. "I've taken you offworld before, Rodney – before I collared you I mean – and you've always been pretty good at taking my orders – the important ones anyway. I expect that, not just as my collared sub but as someone on my team. An offworld team can only have one leader, and that's me in case you haven't noticed."

"I'm sorry," Rodney sighed. "I know that. It just seemed to me that the situation was different. I saw the readings of the ZPM and I thought you'd expect us to use our initiative and go find it – not just sit around waiting for you guys to come back. You didn't have your radios because those idiots wouldn't allow technology into their village so I couldn't call you."

"Okay. I can see how that all seems very logical to you, Rodney, but you knew they didn't want technology on their soil yet still you took your laptop into their temple, and then you *stole* their ZPM. What the hell was that about?"

"They weren't using it," Rodney said defensively.

"We don't just go places and steal stuff – it'll give us a bad name in this galaxy," John said, shaking his head. "And then nobody will want to trade with us. And, uh, in case you hadn't noticed – we really need to trade because we're running out of food – fast."

"I know." Rodney wrapped his arms around his body, angry with himself and still a little bit angry with the technophobe villagers as well, although he didn't think there was any point in mentioning *that* again right now.

"More important than all that though – I left you somewhere safe, and you wandered off somewhere else. When I got to you and found you surrounded by those guys doing all that weird humming…well, you know I don't like situations like that," John told him.

"Yeah." Rodney sighed, thinking that last bit was an understatement. John's emotions ran high whenever Rodney was in any kind of danger – he'd have to bear that in mind a little more when they were offworld from now on.

"Luckily I could see those guys hadn't touched you, and to be honest I could see why they were mad at you. I was pretty mad at you myself," John told him.

"Okay, okay. I know! I screwed up!" Rodney growled, all too well aware of that fact.

"Good. Because we have a new rule. If I *ever* give you a direct order, I expect you to obey it. I'm not going to abuse that and give you a load of orders to follow just to try and trip you up. But when I do give you an order, there'll be a reason for it, and I expect you to follow it to the letter. Understood?"

"Yes." Rodney bit on his lip and gazed at his boots.

"Oh come here."

John got up, and grabbed Rodney, pulling him into his arms. Rodney went gratefully, glad the lecture was finally over. He wrapped his arms around John's lean, solid body with a sigh, and rested his head against John's cheek.

"Are you going to punish me?" he asked, in trepidation.

"Yes I am," John replied. "This…" he touched his fingers to Rodney's collar, "gives me that right."

"Bad?" Rodney asked, starting to shake a little.

"Well, firm at least," John said. "We never did get around to talking about discipline, did we?"

Rodney shook his head. "I never thought I was going to screw up," he said.

"Really? Man, are you ever deluded." John gave a tight little grin. "Okay, let's talk about it now. Do you think you deserve to be punished?"

"Well, I won't do it again. I've learned my lesson," Rodney said hopefully. It was worth a try.

"Which doesn't answer my question at all." John raised an eyebrow.

"Oh alright - I suppose so. I don't like it though," Rodney said.

"You're not supposed to," John told him. "Do you accept that I have the right to punish you?"

"Yes. Of course." Rodney shrugged. That one went without saying. That was the way their society worked, whether he liked it or not. He could have chosen not to accept the collar, and then John wouldn't have the right to punish him, but he had wanted the collar and this came with it. Elizabeth was right – there was a price to be paid.

"Okay. Look, Rodney – I hope we don't have to do this very often but I'll always be fair. If you think you shouldn't be punished then I'll listen. I might not agree with you, and my word goes at the end of the day, but you'll always get a fair hearing."

"Thank you." Rodney bowed his head slightly.

"Alright – let's get on with this then. Go over to the box and bring me my paddle."

Rodney swallowed down hard, and then he went over to the box on the nightstand and opened it. He had thought of this particular box of tricks with anticipatory delight in the past. In John's skilful hands, the items inside had brought him to heights of exquisite pleasure.

This was different though, and they both knew it. This was serious, and he knew he wasn't going to be getting off on it. He also had no doubt that John's hands were just as skilful at punishment as they were at pleasure. He could still remember that judicial spanking John had given him, before he became his top. Rodney had never been taken down so far in his life, so he was all too well aware of just how good John was at handing out punishments.

Rodney found the sleek, black, leather paddle, drilled through with holes so it went through the air faster, and he pulled it out of the box, then returned to John's side and handed it to him.

"Thank you. Now unfasten your pants and go and stand in front of the wall," John told him. Rodney did as he was told, his stomach flip-flopping in earnest now. This was so not going to be good. "Hands on the wall – ass out. That's it," John said, guiding him into the exact position he wanted him in. "Remember how I want you to stand – because next time I want you to get into position quickly, just like this."

"Yes, John," Rodney muttered, secretly vowing that there wouldn't ever *be* a next time, even though he knew that was unlikely. He felt John's hands on his waistband, and then his pants and boxers were yanked down, hard and fast, all the way to his ankles, leaving his ass exposed.

"Kick them off," John ordered, and Rodney quickly got rid of the pants and boxers, toeing them against the wall. "Legs wider apart," John told him, and he felt the cool leather of the paddle between his thighs, pushing his legs open further. He did as he was told, and then John pulled his legs back a little too, making his ass stick right out. His legs were spread so wide that he knew he wouldn't be able to clench against the coming onslaught and he knew, also, that that was why John had positioned him like this. The man knew his art all too well.

Rodney rested his head against his hands, where they were rested flat against the wall, and closed his eyes. He took a deep gulp of air as he felt John's hand rest on his ass for a moment, and then he heard a whistling sound, and next thing he knew he was reeling from the first deep, painful stroke of the paddle.

He bit on his lip, anxious not to cry out. He'd earned this fair and square, and he didn't want to cry, like he had that time back in the punishment room several weeks previously. He might make a big deal out of every minor injury he sustained, but when it came to this kind of pain, Rodney preferred to keep his reactions quiet and restrained. It was a defence mechanism against anyone knowing how much it really hurt.

The paddle pounded down again, hard and stinging, and Rodney realised that when John gave a punishment he really *meant* it, from the very first stroke. There was no warm up, no caresses, and John didn't pull back on his strokes, either.

Rodney leaned into his hands, trying to hide his gulping response to the pain. John continued to rain down a flurry of hard strokes on Rodney's proffered ass, and it was all he could do to stay in position and take them.

"You're holding out on me, Rodney," John told him. He paused for a moment, and Rodney gulped for air, welcoming the respite. He felt John stand close behind him, and then his top was cupping his hot, sore ass cheeks with his hands, making Rodney hiss with pain. "You're mine, Rodney. All of you. I want to see your honest response. Don't hold back."

He stepped away, and Rodney braced himself as the strokes began again. They were even, and carefully spaced, but god they hurt. He didn't know what to make of what John had just said to him. He guessed that his top wanted to get more of a reaction from him – maybe he even wanted him to break down in tears again - but Rodney had a small streak of stubbornness, buried deep inside, and he couldn't give his top that satisfaction.

He loosened up though, giving into the pain, and began to holler and curse. It felt good to greet every single stroke with a yell of cathartic anger, and he found the tension of the past few days dissipating with each hard stroke.

John didn't spare him – when he'd finished with Rodney's butt he laid down some extremely hard strokes between his sub's thighs, and then some more just beneath his buttocks, on the top of his legs. Rodney hated it – that was the worst place to be spanked, and it hurt so goddamn much. He squealed and called John every name under the sun, but John's arm was unrelenting, and he didn't stop for a second.

Just when Rodney was sure it was over, and John was finishing, he returned to Rodney's ass, laying down several more hard, flat strokes, and Rodney threw his head back and gave a scream of sheer annoyance. He had hoped John would finish soon, because he honestly wasn't sure how much he could take, but now John seemed to be whaling into him in earnest, and it didn't look like it'd ever stop.

Finally, arms quivering, Rodney laid his head back down on his arms once more and accepted the rest of his punishment without a murmur, completely exhausted.

Then, finally, it stopped. Rodney blinked, but he was too tired to move. He heard John walk away and the sound of the paddle being returned to the box. God that had been bad. Rodney glanced over his shoulder to see his flaming red ass, evidence of just how bad it had been. He could hear the gentle clinking of the collar around his neck, reminding him why he had just stood here through that ordeal. Elizabeth had been right – John was, most definitely, not a lenient top.

"I want you to stay there," John told him. "You can stand up straight now but I don't want you to touch your ass."

Rodney pushed himself away from the wall and stood there, all his limbs trembling. He felt completely washed out, as if someone had reached into his soul and dragged its substance out of his body, kicking and screaming all the way.

"Hold your shirt up," John ordered as he walked past again. Now that he was standing straight his shirt was hanging down a little way over his spanked ass.

"What?" Rodney frowned, turning to look at his top, still feeling annoyed.

"Hold it up. I want to see that punished ass on display whenever I look at you," John told him. "You can stand there until I think you're done."

"What the hell does that mean?" Rodney growled mutinously. He felt raw inside, as if the slightest thing would set him off and make him lose his temper.

"It means that I'll tell you when you can move. Now shirt up. Do it," John insisted in a hard tone.

Rodney gathered up his shirt in his hand and pulled it up, away from his hot ass, cursing John under his breath as he did so. The spanking had been bad enough but this humiliation was almost worse. Standing here, half-naked, facing the wall, keeping his shirt held up in order to display his sore bottom – his face was now as flushed as his ass.

"Good. Now just stand there for awhile and think about things," John said.

Rodney rolled his eyes. He wasn't sure where all the attitude was coming but he just felt so on edge. He'd never surrendered this degree of control to a top before, and, outside of judicial punishments, had never allowed a top to discipline him for anything other than their mutual pleasure, and he didn't like how it felt. His ass positively burned from the spanking, making his rage even hotter.

He stood there, fuming, but he wasn't sure why he was so angry or who he was angry with. He was just angry. Furious.

He stared at the wall for a long time, mouth crooked with distress, eyes smarting from the effort of not crying, and then suddenly he felt the wetness on his cheeks anyway, and he hated himself for giving in.

At first he ignored the tears streaming down his face, brushing them away angrily with the back of his arm, and then he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he was being pulled around and drawn close, and it was too much for him.

He rested his head on John's shoulder, and bawled his eyes out into John's shirt. It was like a torrent being unleashed and he was powerless to stop it. Big, shaking sobs wracked his body, and all he could do was weather the storm, until it played itself out. He felt like an idiot, standing here, half-naked, ass flaming red, clinging onto John for dear life while he shed these wild, bitter tears.

John's hands were calming on his back, soothing him in gentle circles, and John was saying something into his ear but he couldn't hear what it was. He just felt like he was crying out a lifetime of rage. Rage against his parents, against the kids who'd bullied him at school, against his sister, against Bates, against those villagers for withholding a ZPM - and against himself.

He howled into John's shirt and John was kissing him now, and still holding him tight, never allowing him to draw away. And then, without even realising it, he was quiet. His damp face was nestled in the crook of John's neck, and he was humming softly to himself, utterly spent. John continued to hold him, just standing there, arms around him, stroking him tenderly.

Finally, after several long minutes, John pulled away slightly.

"Man you needed that," he said, smiling as he wiped some wetness off of Rodney's cheek.

"I feel kind of wobbly," Rodney muttered.

"It's alright. I've got you."

John kept a firm arm around his body as he guided him over to the bed. John tugged off his tee shirt, leaving Rodney completely naked, and then helped him flop down onto the bed, on his belly.

"Able to tell me about it?" John asked, reaching out to rub Rodney's back again, where Rodney lay, boneless on the bed.

"It was a ZPM!" Rodney sighed. "A ZPM! I was holding it in my hands. And now it's gone, and all because I'm such a total idiot."

John gave a little laugh. "Yeah, it was a ZPM – and I think they should come with their own label – 'Warning: Rodney's Kryptonite'."

Rodney glanced up, and gave his top a wry smile. "You think I'm a little bit too obsessed with them?"

"I do." John nodded. "For good reason," he added quickly. "But yeah. You need to get some perspective because your brain turns to mush every time you get within sniffing distance of one. Also – I don't think it makes any difference how much of an idiot you were back there. Those people weren't going to give us their Sacred Jewel of the Bathtub no matter now much chocolate we gave 'em."

"Bathsheba," Rodney sighed into the mattress. "Not bathtub."

"Yeah. Whatever," John grinned. "They weren't gonna give it to us, Rodney! And we weren't going to take it by force. So you didn't screw up too bad. Well, except for the not obeying my orders thing – that was bad."

"Yeah. I know." Rodney gazed at his top for a long time. "Love you," he muttered.

John smiled. "Despite how hard I spanked you?" he asked, resting his hand on Rodney's hair and smoothing it down where it was damp and mussed up from all his tears.

"I think…*because* of how hard you spanked me, in a way," Rodney sighed. "I needed to go there – I'm not saying I liked it but I needed it. Hurt like hell." He glanced over his shoulder at his bright red ass again. "Still does."

"Yeah." John shrugged. "I figured it had to be pretty hard if it was going to do the job. I'd have been able to stop earlier if you'd given into it earlier but we all know how stubborn you are, Rodney McKay. I thought I'd failed when I did stop – you still hadn't given it up – but I didn't think your ass could take any more and I wasn't willing to hand out any more in any case. Corner time seemed to do the trick though."

"Mmm. Yeah," Rodney muttered, realising just how lucky he was. John was such a damn good top and was so in tune with him that he could read him like a book, and know exactly what he needed. It made him feel safe, and he didn't think he'd ever felt safe in his life before. "Elizabeth was right," he murmured. "You're sure as hell not a lenient top."

John gave a little snort at that. "Do you want me to be?" he asked, his hazel eyes searching.

Rodney thought about that for a moment. Much as the spanking had hurt, it had taken him to a very necessary place, and he was glad, in some way, that he could rely on John to be there and give him what he needed, even when he didn't know he needed it.

"No," he replied. "You're like my bedrock. And to be honest, if you went easy on me I'd see through it in seconds and run rings around you. I've done *that* with tops before."

"Hmm. I pity the poor bastards. They had no idea how to handle you," John commented, still smoothing Rodney's hair tenderly with his hand.

"Get into bed with me?" Rodney asked. He was surprised by how vulnerable he felt – and also by how little he was trying to hide it. He just didn't have any energy left to mask it. John smiled, and nodded. He got up, and Rodney gave a little whimper of distress at the withdrawal of physical contact.

"It's okay. I'm just going to kick off my boots and pants…ssh, it's okay."

John did that quickly, and then got into the bed beside Rodney, clad in his tee shirt and boxers. He smelled of sweat from their long walk, and Rodney couldn't get enough of that smell. He nestled in close, John's hand on his hip, so that they were face to face. John stroked a loving hand over Rodney's cheek, caressing him gently, and they lay that way for a long time.

Rodney didn't think they'd ever been closer – not even after they'd made love. He was surprised to feel that warm, sweet energy flowing between them. John gave a frown of surprise so Rodney guessed he'd just felt it too.

"It's back," Rodney whispered.

"Yeah – weird. I thought it was more of a sex thing but it's pulsing away as strong as I've ever felt it," John replied.

"Maybe it's more of an intimacy thing," Rodney said.

"Maybe." John pressed a sweet, loving kiss to his lips. "I love you too, by the way," he said after, pulling Rodney a little bit closer. "Even though you are a pain in the ass on missions and disobey my orders and make the natives go all weird and start humming."

Rodney gave a little snorting giggle at that, and then he finally surrendered to the exhaustion sweeping through his body, and fell into a deep, contented sleep.

 

~*~

 

John woke the following morning to the sound of a gently snoring Rodney. He gazed at his sub for awhile, just watching him sleep. Rodney looked sort of young, and quite vulnerable following his spanking. His hair was an endearing mess, and his eyelashes were dark on his pale skin.

John was surprised by the protective surge he felt inside. Last night had been confusing. On one level, he really hadn't liked punishing Rodney, but, at the same time, there had been something cathartic about it – for him as much as for Rodney. He had felt like they were both performing a complicated choreography, top and sub dancing in tune, their energy flowing back and forth, as Rodney submitted to what had been a pretty hard spanking, and John made him take it.

There had been no question of either of them getting off on it – John's cock had remained resolutely uninterested throughout, and he knew Rodney hadn't enjoyed it, either – but somehow, in some way, it had brought them just as close as sex always did.

John had punished people before, in the course of his job, and while he always tried to be fair, and handle it as scrupulously as possible, that sense of benevolent distance had gone out of the window when it was Rodney he was punishing. Being in love with the person you were disciplining made a bigger difference than he'd anticipated, and he was reminded of Gil's words to him, so many years ago, about how to treat a sub.

In the end he'd just gone with what felt right, trusting that it *would* be right, and he'd been surprised by just *how* right it had been.

Rodney's eyes fluttered open and he gazed at John.

"Morning." John brushed a kiss to his cheek.

"Mmm." Rodney smiled and stretched - and then howled. "Oh shit! Man that hurts!" he growled.

"Yeah, it's still pretty red," John told him, pushing down the sheet and glancing over Rodney's shoulder at his sub's still glowing ass. "C'mere." He slipped his fingers down and took Rodney's cock in his hand, rubbing it firmly. Rodney sighed.

"Damnit – I feel like I've been hit with a battering ram. I hate you so much," he seethed.

John grinned, and continued rubbing Rodney's cock, because what Rodney was saying was in direct contrast to what he was doing – which was so often the case. Rodney thrust into John's hand, mewling in pleasure while cursing the whole time. John finished him off and then he got up off the bed.

"Get up, Rodney. I want to inspect you," he said.

Rodney rolled cautiously off the bed, wincing dramatically at every slight movement. John waited for him patiently, ignoring the melodramatics, and Rodney finally came to stand in front of him, still complaining. John reached out and put a finger over his mouth.

"Not another word, Rodney. The paddle's just in that box you know. I can easily get it out again," he said firmly. Rodney's eyes went so big, blue, and panic-stricken that it was all John could do not to laugh out loud.

"You wouldn't!" Rodney squeaked.

"I might." John raised a warning eyebrow. "Now stand still and keep quiet."

He ran his fingers over Rodney's neck, pushing it gently one way and then the other, searching silently. He wasn't sure why this felt so necessary but he was working on instinct again. He hadn't had a chance to be intimately acquainted with Rodney's body for a few days and he wanted to ensure that his lover didn't have any injuries or marks on his body that he didn't know about. He really didn't know why that was so important to him but it was so he just went with it. Rodney seemed a little confused by it but he stood there and submitted to his top's inspection.

John found the faintest hint of a yellowing bruise on Rodney's arm, which Rodney told him he'd sustained during the walk when he'd banged it against a tree. John paused at it for a moment, and then moved on. He turned Rodney around, and worked his way down Rodney's broad shoulders to his buttocks and thighs. He crouched down and examined his handiwork of the previous evening in some detail. Rodney's ass was still pretty red and while John knew it had to be sore, there was no bleeding or anything else that would have alarmed him. He fingered Rodney's hole gently, and Rodney squirmed a little but submitted to it.

"I like the heat…" John murmured, feeling the warmth emanating from Rodney's skin. "How does it feel? I'd like to take you in the shower – you up to that?" He turned Rodney around and looked in his eyes. Rodney thought about it.

"Well, it still really hurts," he said.

"Yes," John acknowledged, and he put his head on one side, raising an eyebrow.

Rodney read his expression and he saw realisation sink in. It was only a little demonstration of dominance, and John wouldn't have pushed it if he thought Rodney would be in real pain, but he wanted to see how much Rodney would enjoy allowing John to take pleasure from his body even if it caused him discomfort. Rodney had said he wanted to test his limits – and John suspected that Rodney would find new levels to his submission by offering himself up to him purely for his top's pleasure, even knowing it would be painful.

"Okay," Rodney said quietly, and John caught the little shiver that ran through him. This was taking their dynamic to a new level – but both of them were up for it so it would be interesting to see where it went.

He took hold of Rodney's hand and led him to the shower. He turned on the water and then pulled Rodney in for a long, slow kiss. Rodney melted against him, the way he always did, and John rested his hands on Rodney's sore buttocks, enjoying the way Rodney gasped and pressed up against him, whimpering slightly. It was turning them both on, as he could see by the surprised arousal in Rodney's eyes. John kissed his way down Rodney's wet throat, and then turned Rodney around.

"Hands against the wall," he ordered, reaching for the soap. He soaped Rodney down thoroughly, going gently over Rodney's sore bottom, and then soaped himself. Then he reached for the lube he kept in the shower. He parted Rodney's red buttocks carefully, and slid his fingers inside. Rodney was stretched now, after a couple of weeks of rigorous anal sex, and his hole opened up easily to John's fingers.

John felt his own arousal growing as his groin was warmed by the heat coming off Rodney's well-spanked ass. He felt a shiver of dominance, starting in his belly and spreading out along his nerve endings. This was about inhabiting his own topspace, and making Rodney submit, and Rodney was turning him on by being so willing and compliant. He lubed his hard cock, and took hold of Rodney's buttocks, enjoying the gasp his sub made as he kneaded the sore flesh. He opened Rodney up and pushed himself in, and Rodney made a little gurgling sound in the back of his throat and opened his legs wider so that John had easier access.

"Good boy. Take me," John ordered, stroking Rodney's heaving flanks gently, as if he was a nervous horse being ridden for the first time.

John put his hand on Rodney's shoulder to brace himself, and then began thrusting in and out. It felt sublime, the way it always did being inside Rodney, but this time there were added pleasures. He liked the dual sensations of the heat of Rodney's ass and the warm slick of water pounding down on them. He liked knowing that Rodney was submitting to him, giving himself freely for John's pleasure. He liked the sound his balls made when they slapped against Rodney's wet ass. It was all so damn good! He rode Rodney for a long time and then came deep inside him. He stood there, panting, and then slowly withdrew and turned Rodney around. Rodney's eyes were wide, and slightly stunned.

"Okay?" John asked, a little breathlessly, wondering why that had been so damn hot.

"Good," Rodney told him, still shaking a little. "There's a place in my head I've never been to before, but you take me there…and it's like I'm floating."

"Subspace," John said, excited because he'd just been so in touch with his own topspace.

"Yeah. I guess," Rodney agreed.

"You want me to take you there more often?" John asked, watching Rodney carefully. Rodney hesitated.

"I don't find it easy. The submission," he admitted, in a faltering tone. "But when I'm there, in that space, it just calms me, and makes me feel so good. Getting there is sometimes hard though."

"We could work on that – if you want?" John offered.

Rodney nodded. "Yes. Please." He stood there, looking wet and kissable, so John gave in and kissed him.

Everyone had their own dynamic. There were a million self-help books out there, about how to get into subspace, or topspace, how to really enjoy your submission or dominance, how to explore it, and what direction would suit you best, but John thought that it was all crap. The only way to find out was to experiment with someone you loved. What they discovered about themselves just served to strengthen the bond they had, and he was sure that if they got it wrong they'd know soon enough and turn around and try something else.

They got dressed and went to their respective jobs. John thought about the events of the past few days while he was working out with Teyla in the practice room.

"Have you ever wondered how far to go with a sub?" he asked her as they circled each other. She raised an eyebrow.

"I tend to rely on my instincts, in much the same way as I do in here," she said, feinting forward and then dancing around him, delivering a firm slap to his thigh.

"Damn it," he grinned at her. "I feel the same way – about instincts. I just…I really don't want to hurt him, y'know? But at the same time, he kind of likes being hurt a little, and I kind of like taking him to that place. It feels so good – for both of us."

"I know." She bowed her head. "Yet you are wondering whether you might lose control, and go too far."

"No. I don't think I could ever really harm, Rodney, but I haven't allowed him a safe word and now I'm wondering, as we go deeper, if I should."

"You should trust yourself more – the way he trusts you," she said. "Safe words have their place – for the novice or inexperienced, or those playing on a superficial level they are invaluable. However, you must ask yourself why you initially refused to allow him a safe word, and why you are now questioning yourself." She inclined her head at him, still circling him, batons at the ready. John thought about it.

"I'm not sure. I just…I don't want to get something wrong and really hurt him," he sighed at last. She nodded.

"I understand. Do you want my honest opinion?"

He took a deep breath and nodded. "Always."

"Very well. If you give Dr McKay a safe word then you no longer have to assume so much responsibility for his wellbeing," she said.

John frowned, wondering how she figured *that*. She gave a little smile.

"Without a safe word you must work much harder to understand your submissive. You must become attuned to his every sigh and murmur, his every whimper and moan. If you allow your submissive a safe word, you give some of that control back to him – and if you do that it will always be a barrier between you. You will never learn his heart, and he will never truly learn how to surrender to you."

"I hadn't thought of it that way," John mused. "That sounds kind of like the Shinzoic Principles." He'd been reading through some stuff on Shinzoism that Carson had given him, and while he discounted a lot of it as not somewhere he personally wanted to go, some of it resonated with him.

"I am not familiar with these principles," Teyla said, "but it may be they are similar to the view we Athosians have on the joining of submissive and dominant, and how the two fit together to achieve the perfection of their union."

"It's all so much harder than I thought it would be," John sighed.

Teyla smiled at him. "You have always avoided the full expression of your sexuality before I think," she said. "Yes, it is hard, but the rewards are exponentially greater."

John nodded. "I think I'm seeing that," he said. "So – you think I did the right thing not allowing Rodney a safe word?"

"Yes. I do," she nodded. "It was your initial instinct and I think you should follow it.   
I do not personally ever give my submissives a safe word. I know my own limits and I work hard to discover theirs. That is part of the challenge. Each submissive is different, and I wish to find that place where we are so synchronised that it feels effortless, where I can taste their submission, freely offered, and they give everything to me. That is the most satisfying part of any mating dance."

John grinned. He loved it when she referred to sex as a 'mating dance'.

"I know what you mean," he agreed, with a little sigh. He'd kind of glimpsed the sort of synchronicity she was referring to, and he knew Rodney had too, and they both wanted more.

"You have time," she chided. "He is only recently collared. You will adapt the dance to your own tune and it will be beautiful."

"It already is," John said, raising his batons to make a move, only to find himself flailing through empty space as she sidestepped him effortlessly.

"You will know if he is ever in genuine distress – you will know because you know him. Sometimes he will think that he cannot do all that you ask of him, cannot endure all that you wish to make him endure, cannot submit to all your demands, but only you will be the true judge of that. He may underestimate himself – and if he can surrender to you during those times then he will find much happiness in his submission. It is not always easy but the rewards are many – for both of you."

"I just hope I get it right."

"Trust yourself," she told him again. "Go with your instincts, and listen to him every step of the way. Listen to the way he breathes, and pants, and moans. Listen to the things that are unsaid, as well as those that are said – and, knowing Dr McKay, I am sure there are many of those."

She paused to give him a knowing smile and he snorted. "Watch him, and learn every single aspect of his body language. Learn what it reveals about him. The senses are the most important – touch, taste, sight, hearing, smell. Use them all. Become one with your art, and you will lead him to a place more magical than you can ever imagine. But do not give up your power. He does not want it – he wishes to give his to you. Allow him do that and you will walk forever as one, and he will never stray from your side."

"I don't think he will anyway, but you're right. Thanks." John stepped back as she threw a hard blow at his batons.

He pondered what she'd said and he knew she was right. He had never dug beneath the surface of his own dominance before, any more than he suspected Rodney had explored his own submission, and they were both eager to go further. It was a revelation finding a partner so in tune with him, and he hungered to discover more about both himself and his submissive.

They finished practising and walked back towards their quarters together.

"So, you ever going to put poor Ford out of his misery and take him for your sub?" John asked her. It wasn't something he'd have hesitated asking anyone else long before now – nobody from Earth was all that shy about asking personal questions – but Teyla had a kind of innate dignity which kept their relationship a little bit more formal.

However, ever since her kindness to him after their visit to the planet of the sex-starved tops, as Rodney insisted on calling it, John's relationship with the wise Athosian woman had deepened, and he found himself wondering if she was happy.

"I will not be taking Lieutenant Ford as my submissive, no," she replied politely.

John felt a bit sorry for Ford on hearing that but he'd guessed as much from the way Teyla had been keeping Ford at arm's length.

"Do not get me wrong – Aiden is a charming submissive and a good man. I have the utmost respect for him, but he is not what I am looking for."

"What *are* you looking for?" John asked, curious.

"It is hard to say – although I feel sure I will know when I see it."

"Yeah. I thought that – then it took me weeks to realise I was insanely in love with Rodney," John grinned. "Sometimes you don't always see what's right in front of you."

"That can be true." Teyla inclined her head. "But I think others saw what you did not. Dr Beckett for example, and myself. We knew that you and Dr McKay were a good match even if you did not see it at first. You needed someone who would challenge you and hold your interest, someone smart, submissive but not easily dominated. You also needed someone to make you laugh."

"Well Rodney's all those things," John agreed. "If you can read me so easily then you must have some idea what would suit you."

"Perhaps. I think…that I need someone to tame," she told him, with a wry smile. "I am a warrior – I want to find someone wild and turn them into my fierce and loyal consort. Ford is, sadly, already tame. He would be very sweet, but would give me no lasting pleasure. I like the thrill of the taming, John. I yearn for the challenge of curbing a wild spirit – and the excitement of knowing that I might not succeed."

"Interesting." John glanced at her sideways, impressed by her self-knowledge and insights. "And what about Carson and Elizabeth? I worry about them. I wish they'd find subs. Any idea what they need?"

"Dr Beckett is a dear, sweet man. He needs an old-fashioned kind of love," Teyla responded thoughtfully. "He is always taking care of others – he needs to find a submissive who is strong enough to take care of him occasionally."

"I'd agree with that. And Elizabeth?"

Teyla gave a little smile. "I admire and respect Elizabeth as a fellow leader of her people. She is a good woman but I think that her heart has been bruised."

John remembered what Elizabeth had told him about the submissive she'd once collared, who hadn't loved her enough to follow her through the gate. There had been such sadness in her eyes and he wondered if she'd ever feel able to collar another sub after that kind of heartache. Just the thought of rescinding Rodney's collar was enough to make him feel ill – the idea of leaving Rodney behind somewhere, available for some other top to claim made his hands clench into fists and his stomach churn. He had no idea how anyone got over that.

"Elizabeth deserves the best," he murmured.

"I agree." Teyla nodded. "She would not wish to tame anyone though. Nor would she want someone who would cause her as many headaches as Dr McKay – no offence intended." She inclined her head at him again, and he laughed out loud.

"Which is a polite way of saying Rodney is a pain in the ass!" he grinned.

"He is…a handful – much more suited to you than to a top like Elizabeth," Teyla replied, with just the hint of a little grin playing around her lips. "She needs deference, respect and a quiet strength. She needs a submissive who will stand by her side and support her, not be consumed by dramas of their own."

"Yeah," John said softly. Spot on again, he thought. Teyla really did have a very good handle on them all.

They reached his quarters and he turned to go in – but she stopped him by putting her hand on his arm.

"Since we have been candid, I would like to ask – have you considered lifebonding with Rodney?"

John felt the shadow pass across his face. "No," he said tightly.

He remembered what Carson had said about the pre-lifebond they'd already formed, but he had shied away from thinking about it in any more detail. All lifebonding made him think about was Adam's howl of anguish when Gil had died, and the way he'd followed him into death seconds later, leaving John alone, locked up in a tight, painful little world of his own, which was more or less where he'd remained until Rodney had come along. And yet…he couldn't deny he loved that flow of energy that took place between him and Rodney – if that was the beginnings of a lifebond then it was very seductive – and he had sometimes wondered what the real thing would feel like.

"I am sorry," she murmured, as if sensing some of his inner conflict on the subject. "I did not mean to pry – it is just that I have felt the stirrings of a bond between the two of you of late, and I wondered whether you were considering taking that to fruition."

"You could sense that?" John frowned.

Teyla nodded. "It is a custom among my people to devote ourselves to learning about different aspects of our sexuality. Some have the gift to become a sage, and they spend many years learning and refining their skill so as to be of use to others when making the important decision about whether one is sexually dominant or submissive. Others devote themselves to the study of the Kaeira – the healing power that flows through a lifebond. Still others choose to study the lifebond itself – how it starts, how it may be brought to fruition…that is my chosen area of study. I am very attuned to bonded couples, and I could not help but sense that you and Dr McKay have formed a spontaneous link. That is rare and remarkable – and I wished to offer my help in case you ever choose to bring the bond to fruition."

"That's very kind of you but…I guess you could say I'm not a great fan of lifebonding," John told her slowly. She looked both puzzled and surprised at that.

"Among my people it is considered the highest expression of love," she replied. "Many try to achieve it but few succeed."

"Yeah, it's pretty much the same among my people," he told her. "But I don't want Rodney to die just because I'm stupid enough to get myself killed. I'm a soldier, Teyla – he's a scientist. My odds of getting killed are much higher than his."

"And if he died – would you wish to live without him?" she asked.

John felt as if a cold fist had wrapped itself around his heart, and squeezed, hard.

"No," he said softly.

"Then why do you assume it is not the same for him?" Teyla asked quietly.

John just shrugged. "I know it doesn't make much sense to you, but it's how I feel," he told her firmly.

"You have been hurt," she said, those wise eyes of her seeing into his soul.

"You could say that." He had spent nearly two decades hating the very idea of the lifebond, and while his perspective on many things had changed since meeting Rodney, he still wasn't ready to let go of that particular prejudice.

"If Rodney was mortally wounded you could use the bond to share your energy with him, and keep him alive," she told him.

He remembered when he was five years old rushing with Gil to the hospital, to find Adam lying white-faced in a room, a blood-stained bandage on his shoulder. There were medical staff there, but they all stood back when Gil ran in.

Gil had told John to sit quietly on a chair while he helped Daddy Adam to feel better, and then he had lain down on the bed, placed his fingers on Adam's shoulder, and rested his head against Adam's ghostly pale cheek. John hadn't known what was happening, but he was aware of an electric intensity in the room, and had watched as Adam's skin changed colour, gradually returning to normal.

Adam had woken up a few minutes later, stretched a little, and, seeing him, had muttered, "Hi kid" and beckoned him over. Gil, previously full of frantic, concerned energy, had been left listless, and a little pale, but Adam had made a quick recovery after that, and there had been no lasting effect on Gil.

"I know that. I know more about lifebonding than you think, Teyla," he told her tersely, turning back to his quarters and signalling that the conversation was over.

"Yes," she murmured. "It is always hard for those left behind. To lose one is hard – to lose both can be devastating."

He paused, his hand frozen on the door, his shoulder muscles stiff, but he didn't turn around.

"The link you have is as nothing compared to how a lifebond would feel. You have no idea what you are missing, Colonel," she added softly.

His hand formed into a fist, but still he made no reply. He heard her give a little sigh, and then the sound of her footsteps as she walked away.


	17. Shield Redux

John took a shower, standing under the warm water for a long time, until he felt better. He didn't want to think about lifebonding – what he had with Rodney was so good that he could hardly imagine anything that would make it *better*. He resolved to put the conversation with Teyla out of his mind, and he got dressed and wandered along to the lab. It was about time for lunch, and he found Rodney standing at his work station, his fingers moving fast over the keyboard. John touched his shoulder, and pressed a kiss on the back of his head.

"Hmmm. Hi," Rodney said, never taking his eyes off his screen.

John slid his hand around Rodney's waist and down the front of his pants. Rodney paused, fought it for a moment, and then sighed and melted back against him. Nobody took any notice of them – Rodney was John's collared sub, and John had full body rights over him and could exercise them whenever he wanted.

John found Rodney's cock and rubbed it, and was delighted to find it harden almost as a reflex action to the caress. John could, if he wanted, pleasure himself on Rodney right here and now, in front of everyone, but even though it was neither illegal nor frowned upon, John thought public sex was a bit tacky, unless you really wanted to make a point to your sub about his submission.

Having got Rodney's attention away from the screen, John released his cock, and removed his hand from the front of Rodney's pants.

"So, got time for lunch?" John asked.

"Would you mind if I passed?" Rodney said, shooting an anxious glance at John over his shoulder. "Only we've been away for four days and everything's backed up. I thought I'd grab a sandwich at my desk."

"Okay." John nuzzled a kiss on Rodney's neck. "Later."

"Mmmm." Rodney waved vaguely in his general direction, his attention already riveted on his screen again.

John returned to the lab several hours later, looking for his sub. It was late, the lab was empty – and there was no sign of Rodney.

"Rodney?" He glanced around, and saw Rodney lying on the floor on his stomach, his laptop in front of him. "What you doing there?" John walked over to his sub and sat down beside him, cross legged.

"Well, I've been standing up all day and my legs hurt so I thought I'd do some work lying down because, you know, sitting is *completely* out of the question," Rodney told him, with only a faintly accusing look. John grinned, and reached out a hand to stroke Rodney's enticingly plump ass.

"You coming to eat?" he asked.

Rodney shook his head. "Nope. I really want to work on this," he said.

John frowned. He wondered whether the spanking had made Rodney have second thoughts about their relationship, but that didn't seem to be the vibe he was getting off his sub. If anything, Rodney seemed calmer than usual, and more affectionate. His sub leaned forward and pressed a kiss to John's hand.

"Later?" he said.

"Tell me what you're working on," John said, sensing that something else was going on here.

Rodney sighed. "Look, I'm just going over the notes from that temple we visited again. I got three possible leads last time and there might be more. It's possible that some of the peripheral transcriptions give stargate co-ordinates for the locations of other ZPMs."

"Rodney!" John chided, exasperated. "We talked about the whole ZPM issue."

"I know, I know," Rodney said, a pleading expression on his face. "I just really need to do this, John. The city desperately needs a ZPM, and I feel like we could be close. I mean, I was holding that bloody thing in my hands and…."

"Ssh." John put his finger over Rodney's mouth. "Don't go over that again." Rodney gazed up at him from puppy dog blue eyes and John felt himself surrendering. "Okay. Work on this if you want – but I won't let it go on indefinitely. Understood?"

"Yes. Thank you."

John gave Rodney's ass a hearty slap, just to let him know he'd be watching him, and Rodney gave a yelp combined with a little giggle, and returned to his work.

John walked over to the door and paused there, gazing back at his lover. Rodney looked so adorable lying on the floor on his front, every ounce of his attention focussed on the laptop in front of him as he returned to his work. Being a good top meant knowing when to let your sub follow his heart, and John knew that this was one of those occasions. Rodney's work was important to him, and John would never make him feel safe enough to submit to all he wanted to do to him in the bedroom if he threw his weight around outside it.

John spent a lonely night in his bed, wishing Rodney's warm weight was nestled beside him. Usually, however they started out the night, by morning Rodney's head was on his shoulder or his chest, one arm slung across John's midriff. John usually woke first, and would find Rodney twitching slightly in his sleep, body pressed as close to John's as it was possible to be. He should have realised Rodney was a cuddler way back, that first time they spent a night together in that tent, before they started having sex, when he'd woken up to find Rodney sprawled over his chest. Nothing had changed since then. He didn't think Rodney did it consciously – he just somehow ended up sleeping as close to John as it was possible to get.

They hadn't spent that many nights apart since they'd got together, and John found he missed Rodney even more than he had expected. It was weird, in a way, because he'd spent all his adult life avoiding intimacy, had frequently left some sub's bed after sex and gone home to snatch a few hours alone, but Rodney wasn't just any sub, and John's arms ached to hold him. Now he didn't value his own space so much – being without Rodney at night was like being half there, and he often woke up, his arms reaching out for Rodney, only to find the bed cold and empty.

He tried to be tolerant for the next few days, but it wasn't easy. He wished they were living together – at least then he'd see exactly what hours Rodney was putting in, and he felt a vague sense of unease about not knowing. He was Rodney's top, and he knew enough about his sub to suspect that Rodney was working crazy hours. He'd promised Rodney he wouldn't hassle him any more about living together and he didn't intend to, but he felt he was failing him all the same.

Rodney wasn't always a very sensible person, about many things, but particularly about his workload. If he was intellectually excited then he could easily get sucked into a little world of his own. That might have been acceptable in the past, but now that he was collared he had someone who cared about him, and who got concerned when he went missing for any period of time, even if he was only missing in the mental sense.

Anybody who knew Rodney knew what he was like though – when he got like this, he was so distracted he barely gave you the time of day. When you talked to him his eyes remained glazed over, and while he seemed to nod in all the right places John knew that he was a million miles away.

Even John's tolerance had its limits, and after five days of seeing virtually nothing of Rodney his patience was wearing thin. Rodney had waylaid him twice in the transporters to deliver two truly spectacular blowjobs, and that had turned his brain to such mush he'd been unable to lay down the law to Rodney about the hours he was working, but he knew this couldn't go on for much longer. He also knew that Rodney had only given him the blowjobs as a bribe to keep him off his case, and that bothered him. Most of the time Rodney avoided him, clearly anxious that John didn't rein him back in.

After yet another restless and Rodney-less night, John decided that enough was enough. He went to Rodney's quarters early one morning, intending to have a long talk with him, only to find them empty.

Furious, he strode along the hallway to the lab, and, sure enough, found Rodney there, sitting at his workstation, eyes red-rimmed and weary from obviously having pulled an all-nighter.

This was enough for John. Part of being a good top was allowing his sub to have his head and to understand his passions, and part of it was saving his wayward sub from his own stubborn self too, and it was knowing when to do which that was the real art.

"Rodney," he said sharply, and Rodney started and glanced up. There were dark shadows under his eyes and he looked exhausted. "Have you been here all night?" John asked.

"Is it morning?" Rodney looked confused.

"I'll take that as a yes. I've had enough. This has to stop," John said firmly. "I knew this was important to you so I've given you some leeway but now you're just taking advantage frankly."

"I'm so close!" Rodney protested.

"No you're not. You just *want* to be close," John growled. "Now, I don't care if you spend an hour or two a day of your spare time going over those notes, but you don't pull another all-nighter to work on this, and you stop working every single moment when you're not asleep."

"You're just missing the sex," Rodney snapped.

"Yes I am!" John retorted. "I'm also worried about you. You should take a good look at yourself. Now, go back to your quarters and get some sleep. I'll tell Zelenka you'll be late. Then join me for lunch. You can work this afternoon and I'll see you in my quarters at seven p.m. Do not, under any circumstances, be late." He turned to go.

"Fine," Rodney said sulkily behind him. "Whatever. I bet Einstein wouldn't have discovered the fucking theory of fucking relativity if he'd had you as his fucking top."

John paused in the doorway, and then turned back to glare at his sub.

"Rodney, if I get any more attitude off you then that spanking I gave you a few days ago will feel like a walk in the park. You got me?" he said.

Rodney glared back at him, and John couldn't help but feel sorry for him. His sub was too exhausted to think straight, and this was precisely why he needed a firm hand right now, and someone who'd think straight for him.

"Yeah. I got you," Rodney muttered. "Sir," he added sarcastically as John went to walk away.

John turned back, smoothly, crossed the distance to Rodney's workstation in a few steps, pushed Rodney down over the table, and delivered several hard swats to his sub's ass. He only used his hand, and Rodney's ass was covered by his pants and boxers so it could hardly have hurt much, but its value was in reminding Rodney who he was talking to.

John released his sub, pulled Rodney up, grabbed the lapel of his lab coat, and yanked him out of the room. He dragged Rodney along to his quarters, opened the door, and half-walked, half-threw Rodney inside.

"Bed. Now," John said, standing there, arms folded across his chest. Rodney gazed at him from blue eyes that couldn't decide if they were freaked out or aroused, but he gave in, mutinously removing his boots, pants and labcoat, before sliding under the sheets, glaring at John the entire time.

John waited until Rodney was in situ before striding over to the door. "I'll radio you at lunchtime. If I see you anywhere outside of this room before then, or if anyone else sees you, then you'll get another taste of my paddle," he said firmly.

Rodney turned his back on him, and then pulled the sheet, slowly and deliberately, over his head, making no reply. It didn't pass John by that Rodney was giving him the finger as he pulled the sheet up, either.

He shrugged. Rodney might not be very happy with him but he needed someone to reel him back in, and make him eat and sleep. He knew just how single-minded and obsessed his sub could be at times, and he didn't mind playing the bad guy in order to force his wayward lover into getting some rest.

As it turned out, John was called away to take Carson to a medical emergency on the mainland a couple of hours later, so he sent Lorne in his stead, insisting that he escort Rodney to the mess hall at lunch time, and that he watch him eat a full meal.

It was late by the time he got back from the mainland, and as he walked tiredly from the jumper bay he decided that he couldn't face another battle with Rodney right now. He suspected that if he dropped by the lab he'd find Rodney there, making the most of his top's absence. He could just imagine the look of innocence he'd see in Rodney's eyes. "But I went to your quarters and you weren't there? What was I supposed to do? Sit and wait?"

He wasn't in the mood for it, so he went to his quarters instead. He opened the door…and stopped dead in his tracks. The room was warm, lit by a dozen candles, and Rodney was kneeling on a rug in the centre of the room, stark naked, his body glistening with…oil?

John gazed at him blankly for a moment, and then his brain kicked into gear, sending a considerable amount of blood southwards in appreciation of just how hot Rodney looked right now. Rodney looked up.

"Just wanted to say…sorry?" he offered, those twisted lips of his quirked into a little expression of contrition. "I knew I was being an ass. Couldn't seem to stop myself."

"Candles?" John raised an eyebrow. "And oil?"

"Too much?" Rodney asked.

"Oh no. Definitely not." John grinned. "Oh god you look fantastic. Apology accepted, Rodney." He went over to his sub and Rodney stayed kneeling, looking up at him with a happy smile.

"Also, I was missing the hot sex too," Rodney added. "I think I was trying to punish myself for the whole ZPM thing."

"There's really no need for you to punish yourself when I can do that for you," John said, with a dangerous grin. Rodney giggled, and John smoothed his sub's wavy hair away from his face. "You look so damn edible. I'm going to need to taste," he said.

"I'm all yours." Rodney looked up at him eagerly. "Oh! And something else. I thought…well, I hope this might um, interest…amuse…excite…you. Whatever." He reached out and took something off the nightstand, and handed it to John.

"Is it a cock ring?" John held it up. It looked like a cock ring. It was round, and there was a little clip fastening, but it was unlike any cock ring he'd seen before. It looked…kind of alien, and there were some ornate markings on it. He pressed a little switch on the side and it started to pulse with a bright green light. "Shit, it looks just like…."

"The personal shield. I know." Rodney nodded smugly, getting to his feet and dancing around excitedly. "That's because it is! Well, no, that's not true. You see, I had a nice sleep this morning, and woke up feeling a lot better, and that's when I realised that you weren't such a big jerk after all so I got to thinking about how I could make it up to you, and I had this idea. So I found another personal shield in storage, and I adapted it into this shape, so it could fit around my cock."

"Great…so if you're wearing it I can't touch your cock?" John was puzzled.

Rodney giggled again, his brown hair bouncing off the nape of his neck, looking completely adorable. It was all John could do not to kiss him.

"No, no, no! You see, I know you have this thing about my cock and ass being your own personal property. Not that I'd let anyone but you get that close but hell, I know that sometimes you don't even like *me* touching myself. So…I keyed the DNA on the shield so that when I'm wearing it, and when it's activated, you're the only one who can touch me in a radius all around here." He waved in the direction of his groin and ass. "Of course, I'd be kind of grateful if you used it wisely." He adopted a pained expression. "As I won't even be able to wipe my own ass otherwise, but I thought you'd get a kick out of knowing I was completely untouchable there – that only you can get through the shield."

"Oh my god." John looked at the glowing green device in his hand, feeling his cock immediately harden. This was such a hot fantasy. His mind raced ahead, thinking of all the things they could do with it.

"So – did I do good?" Rodney grinned, still hopping around excitedly.

"Oh yeah. You did good," John drawled. "You did *very* good, Rodney. In fact, you did so good that tonight I'm going to reward you." Rodney's face lit up even more than it was already, making John laugh out loud. "But tomorrow…tomorrow we're going to deal with that little tantrum you threw earlier," he said. Rodney's face fell so much it was almost comical. "Well, we do have some issues to sort out," John said, and Rodney nodded, glumly. "But right now, I just want to enjoy my sub."

John reached out, pulled Rodney's oiled, naked body to his chest, and lowered his head to find those beautiful, crooked lips. He kissed Rodney long and hard, loving the way Rodney surrendered to him so easily, his body sinking against John's, melting into him, making his cock ache.

He always got especially excited when Rodney was naked and he was clothed – there was something so arousing about it. As he kissed Rodney he thought of appropriate ways to reward him for his ingenuity about the cock ring. Having a ridiculously smart scientist for a boyfriend really did pay at times, he thought to himself happily.

When he released Rodney, he guided him over to the bed.

"Lie down. On your back. Arms and legs spread right out," he ordered.

Rodney complied eagerly, his eyes alight with anticipation. John grinned – he remembered those stories about Rodney being a bad sub, and nothing could be further than the truth. Rodney generally tried to be as obedient and compliant as possible in the bedroom, and he'd always tried his best to obey every sexual order John had given him. He was more of a handful in their everyday life but that just made a fine counterpoint to his submission in the bedroom – and stopped their lives from ever being routine, or ordinary.

John went over to his box of toys and took out four padded cuffs. He fastened them to Rodney's wrists and ankles, while Rodney watched with eager eyes. Then John fastened the cuffs to the headrail and footrail of the bed, making sure that they were secure.

After that, he just stood there for a moment, looking down on his naked, oiled sub. He reached out and took hold of Rodney's hardening cock, rubbing it to a fully erect state, while Rodney started to make those adorable mewling sounds in his throat.

"All right, submissive. I want you to keep this erection until I tell you that you can come. Understood?" John said. Rodney nodded, eyes wide and blue. John slid his fingers along Rodney's beautiful hard cock a few more times. "Think of yourself as a sacrifice," he murmured. "An offering – and I'm the one you're offering yourself to. Give it all up to me."

Rodney nodded again, a smile curving those twisted lips.

"I'm going to the bathroom. I want you to lie here and think of me coming to claim you – and remember to stay hard for me," John ordered, and then he turned and left.

He went to the bathroom, got undressed, and took a shower, making sure he was clean all over, and then he took his time drying himself. He knew it would be hard for Rodney to maintain that erection without the use of his hands to keep it perky, but John liked setting little tests for Rodney, and he knew Rodney liked performing all the things John asked of him. It turned them both on.

Finally, John opened the door a little, and peered through. The sight in front of him took his breath away. Rodney, lying on his back on the bed, stark naked, his oiled skin glistening in the candlelight, and his cock standing up straight and proud, in a magnificent erection.

John felt his own cock harden just at the sight. The candles flickered, painting Rodney's naked flesh in little shadows and bursts of light, dappling his creamy skin and making the oiled flesh gleam even more. John stepped quietly over to the bed, and Rodney's blue eyed gaze turned to him.

"Ssh," John said, wanting to keep things quiet and intense. He got onto the bed and straddled Rodney, placing his hands gently on his sub's oily flesh. He loved the way his fingers slid over Rodney's smooth skin, and he made little whorls on Rodney's body as he went, his fingertips tracing circles and stars, teasing and caressing wherever they touched.

Rodney began to make little whimpering sounds in the back of his throat, his breath hitching as John worked his way lower.

"Keep still for me or you won't get your reward," John warned.

Rodney's eyes widened again, and John suppressed a grin. One of the wonderful things about Rodney was the way his facial expressions were so incredibly revealing. He remembered what Teyla had said to him about the mating dance, and considered himself pretty lucky as tops went. It wasn't hard knowing how Rodney felt about any given thing he did to him – it was all written in those expressive eyes and in the body language.

John lowered his head and took a warm, oily nipple between his lips, sucking gently. Rodney swallowed a moan, his body rising to meet John's touch. John sucked on his other nipple, then alternated between the two, knowing how sensitive they were, and how much pleasure this light sucking gave his sub.

Then he moved down, trailing oily fingers and his moist mouth over acres of slippery Rodney skin. Finally, he reached Rodney's cock. He didn't touch it – he just rose up on his haunches, looked down on Rodney, and then reached behind him, pulled his own buttocks apart, and impaled himself on the top of Rodney's cock. Rodney let out a strangled cry, and then he gazed up at John, transfixed.

John never took his eyes off his sub's face as he slowly, so slowly, took Rodney's oiled cock deep into his anus. He'd prepared himself in the bathroom, stretching and applying lube. He hadn't often allowed his subs to penetrate him – he enjoyed the sensation but it wasn't his favourite thing. Mostly he preferred to penetrate them, but occasionally it was nice to feel them inside him. He never allowed the act to be anything other than one of domination though, and this time was no different. Rodney was completely tied, and couldn't resist even if he'd wanted to.

"I'm going to ride you hard," John whispered. "Your naked body is here to service me, Rodney. Spread out for me to use. All you have to do is stay hard for me and offer yourself up."

Rodney blinked, his blue eyes amazed and aroused at one and the same time. John slid right down on Rodney's cock and then up again. He reached down and fondled his own hard cock, enjoying the dual stimulation of Rodney's penis stretching his anus and his own cock responding, tingling with pleasure.

He rode Rodney slowly, keeping his movements measured, loving the way Rodney gasped beneath him each time he moved downwards, his ass muscles clenching around Rodney's hard penis. Rodney strained against his bonds, the sensation clearly too much for him, his hands opening and closing spasmodically.

John knew that Rodney wanted to move, wanted to grip John's thighs and time the thrusts himself, but also he knew how much Rodney enjoyed being denied that degree of control. John was in charge, and he decided how much pleasure Rodney's cock got, and what angle it was allowed to penetrate his body, and how deep it went, and how fast, and all Rodney could do was lie there and take it.

"I want you to come on command," John told him. "Think you can do that?" Rodney nodded frantically. "Good."

John started to speed up, watching as a bead of sweat worked its way down Rodney's forehead, staining the oiled skin. He knew Rodney was fighting desperately not to come, and he was pleased. He liked to see his sub make a visible effort to obey him, even when it was hard. He milked Rodney's cock even harder, making Rodney cry out and fling his head back on the pillows.

"Look at me," John told him, tapping his belly warningly. "Keep your gaze fixed on me. I want you to be able to read me. When you see me about to come then I want you to come too – I want you to come at the same time as me. Understand?"

Rodney's blue eyes looked unsure. "You need to learn to watch me," John told him. "You need to learn what pleases me, and the sounds I make and how I look when I'm ready to come."

Rodney nodded, his expression changing to one of determination. Now their gazes were locked once more as John rode him in earnest, sliding up and down on Rodney's cock, hard and fast, squeezing with his ass muscles as he did so. There was no sound except their ragged breathing, and the moment was so intense John almost didn't want to come – he wanted to just live this experience forever.

He pulled on his own cock with slick fingers, timed to each inward slide of Rodney's cock inside his body, feeling the fantastic pressure starting to build, and build, and build…and then he was coming, deliberately spraying himself onto Rodney's naked chest and belly.

He felt Rodney convulse against him a mere split second later, and sensed Rodney's pumping climax. They came to a halt, and John knelt there, straddled over Rodney's body, his breath coming in heaving gasps. Beneath him, Rodney was gazing up at him with an adoring expression on his face, and a wide smile on his lips.

"I did it didn't I?" he whispered. "I got the timing right."

"You did." John leaned forward, and rewarded his obedient sub with a kiss on his lips.

"Oh god that was amazing," Rodney sighed afterwards. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." John got off of Rodney's softening cock, and felt Rodney's come trickle out of his anus and down his leg. That gave him an idea, which he stored away for later.

He untied Rodney and removed his cuffs, chucking them wearily onto the floor, and then gathered up his sub in his arms and they lay there, too sated too move. The candles were now burning low, and some of them had winked out altogether, leaving the room in semi- darkness.

"I have to ask," John said, his arms wrapped happily around his warm submissive, glad to have Rodney back in his bed for a whole night again. "The candles and the oil – where the hell did you get them? Because I don't believe for a second that you brought 'em with you from Earth."

Rodney gave his trademark giggle. "You'd be right not to believe that," he replied. "I didn't. I, uh, did a trade with Katie Brown. Oh, okay, I have to admit something. They weren't my idea. I was returning Katie's magazine to her earlier and I thought I'd ask her what the hell a sub should do if he's pissed off his top and wants to make amends. She told me that she never pisses Miko off but when she wants to surprise her, she strips naked, gets oiled up, lights a few candles, and waits for her in Miko's quarters."

"Wow. Lucky Miko," John commented. Rodney elbowed him in the ribs.

"You only have room in your life for one submissive so don't go getting lecherous thoughts about Katie," he sniffed.

"I wasn't," John grinned, because he liked it when Rodney got jealous. "Just thinking – way to go Miko for choosing subs who like spoiling her so much. So, what did you have to trade to get the candles and the oil?"

"That's between me and Katie," Rodney said. John squeezed his ass warningly.

"Rodney."

"Oh okay. It's just embarrassing. Uh, Miko only has one pair of those PVC boots she likes and they're wearing a little thin. No chance of getting any more stuck out here in the Pegasus galaxy, so I have to, um, manufacture some PVC so Katie can give her a new pair of boots on their anniversary next month."

John laughed out loud. "You have to make Miko a pair of boots?" he said, gazing at his sub in amused disbelief.

"No!" Rodney protested. "I have to make some PVC – which actually isn't that hard. Katie's getting the boots designed and sewn up by an Athosian cobbler on the mainland, although actually I'm pretty good at designing and making things so…oh shit, did I just destroy any street cred I had left admitting that?" Rodney asked.

John snorted. "Rodney, you've never had any street cred," he said

"Oh." Rodney looked ever so slightly crestfallen at that, although really, John had no idea how his beloved geeky sub could ever have believed he had street cred.

"And making PVC is *such* a good use of our facilities here, to say nothing of that enormous brain of yours," John teased, pinching Rodney's bottom. Rodney emitted a world-weary sigh but rested his head on John's chest all the same.

"I DO have an enormous brain," he said, a trifle smugly. John pinched his bottom again. "Okay, okay. But remember I did it for you."

John squeezed him tight. "You did, and I'm very grateful – as I think I just showed you."

"Mmmm. Yeah. Oh god, that was so incredibly fantastic. I wondered if you'd ever let me…you know, but I thought you probably wouldn't because you're so bossy during sex and then…oh god."

"Don't get too used to it," John told him. "I don't get the urge very often, and when I do it's most likely to be you lying flat on your back, and me on top."

"Hmm, well, you on top is pretty much the way it should be," Rodney said, in a contented little murmur, his eyes drooping.

John smiled, and pulled the blanket up around them both. He watched as Rodney fell asleep in his arms, and it felt so good after so many nights spent in this bed alone.

John realised he had made a mistake in allowing Rodney to get buried so deep in his search for the ZPMs. He had forgotten just how smart his boyfriend was. Rodney had a tendency to live too much in his own brain, and he needed a strong top to help him relax and switch off from his obsessions.

John traced a hand over Rodney's sleeping body. Rodney was more relaxed than he had been before their sex session, but his shoulders were still tight from days of tension. John frowned, feeling the knots beneath his fingertips as he gently rubbed Rodney's shoulders and neck. He felt annoyed with himself – he'd failed Rodney and allowed the situation to get out of hand. He supposed it was inevitable that he'd screw things up at some point. They were still relatively new to each other, and so far their relationship had been so sexually charged that nothing else had mattered. They had to find a way to live and work together too – and he had to learn to read his complex sub better.

John wrapped his arms around Rodney and pulled him close, and his sub came, murmuring something in his sleep. John held him, planning for the day ahead – he'd relax all this tension out of Rodney, and give his sub the release he needed right now.

Sometimes he forgot how much Rodney carried the weight of the city on his shoulders. Rodney was the Head of Science after all, and they relied on him to keep things working and come up with brilliant ideas that would save their lives in the nick of time. That had to be a strain. His brilliance was often so immediate, and so effortless, that people forgot the long hours he put in at the lab, and the way he tried so hard to get them what they needed – such as the ZPM.

John mulled over his idea for what he'd do the following day. He doubted Rodney would like it at first – but if it worked, it would give his sub the rest and relaxation he so clearly needed right now. And it was up to John to make sure it *did* work. He was Rodney's top, and Rodney's wellbeing was his responsibility - and one that he was happy to shoulder.

He kissed Rodney's hair, gently, inhaling the scent of it. Rodney smelled of fragrant oil combined with sex and sweat, and, a bit, of the lab, the way he always did. John liked the combination so much that he kept his nose pressed against Rodney's hair for a long time, before he, too, fell asleep.

 

~*~

 

Rodney woke the next morning to the sensation of his top playing with his cock. It was an entirely good sensation, and his cock hardened immediately.

He stretched, feeling his muscles creak slightly. He felt stiff, but the long sleep had done him good, and his body was starting to unwind. He realised, guiltily, how stupid he'd been, working himself into the ground and ignoring John's concern for him.

He knew he'd been behaving badly, but his obsession with finding a ZPM had got the better of him. He winced as he recalled how he'd avoided his top for fear that John would call him on it, and the hissy fit he'd thrown the previous day.

"Okay?" John sounded surprised, mis-reading his wince. "I'm not hurting you, am I?"

He wasn't. He was doing entirely nice things to Rodney's cock – things that made Rodney wish he could purr like a cat.

"No. I was just thinking that my body feels much happier when it's having regular sex with you and how much of an idiot I was to avoid you for the past few days," Rodney sighed.

"Well, I agree," John said, in that drawl of his. "Which is why you're going to spend the day focussing on whose collar you wear and why."

Rodney turned and gazed into John's warm hazel eyes, feeling a rising surge of panic.

"You said you were going to do something," he babbled. "I guess I deserve a punishment but I'm really sorry and…."

"Shut up, Rodney," John interrupted him. "You did the whole apology thing last night and very nice it was too. And what I have in mind isn't so much a punishment as a way of reminding you that I'm your top because you seemed to forget that yesterday."

"Yeah." Rodney made a face, remembering that he'd flipped the finger at John, among other things.

"So, I have something very specific in mind for you today." John grinned, and removed his hand from Rodney's cock.

"That sounds bad," Rodney said, grinning back, because it also sounded kind of arousing.

"Well, that depends on how you look at it. I've no doubt it'll be uncomfortable," John said. "Maybe a little inconvenient, but, knowing you, it'll possibly also be a giant turn on too."

"Oh, bad *and* good. I like it." Rodney sat up eagerly.

"All right. Today, your body is mine."

"It always is," Rodney said simply.

John gave a little glowing smile, and reached out to rest his hand on Rodney's neck. "I know – but usually I have to share it with you," he said. "Today – it's mine. Every bodily function is mine. You won't eat or drink anything that I haven't hand fed you – so that means no donuts when you're working, and definitely no coffee."

"What?!" Rodney protested.

"You heard. If you want coffee you'll have to come to me so I can give it to you."

"Oh okay," Rodney agreed grudgingly, wondering what else this entailed.

"Good. Now, first off we'll shower. I'll soap you down – I don't want you touching yourself," John told him. Rodney nodded, his eyes wide and curious. This all sounded very hot but also kind of scary too, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it as the dual emotions warred with each other.

He followed John into the shower, and then stood there, while John grabbed the soap. John took his time, as he always did, and Rodney forced himself to just stand there and not get involved. Usually he liked to race through his shower, always doing everything boring at top speed so he could get onto more interesting stuff – usually his lab work.

Occasionally showers with John were fun – when they involved hot sex. This one didn't seem to though. It mainly seemed to involve John doing that weird inspection thing that he liked doing so much. He examined every inch of Rodney's body, spending a long time peering at his cock for some reason, perhaps to make sure it had survived the total joy of the previous evening's sex session without coming to any harm, which Rodney could have told him was a total waste of time. In fact he *did* try to tell him, but John just glared at him until he shut up.

When he'd finished washing Rodney thoroughly, John turned him around and lubed his anus. This made Rodney's cock harden because it promised imminent sex, and that was always a good thing. Then John turned him around again, and made him stand and watch while he showered himself.

Rodney enjoyed the floor show far too much to want to complain about that. John looked damn good wet, the water running in little rivulets through his abundant chest hair, and down over his frankly magnificent penis. Rodney gazed at John's penis longingly; it was the source of much pleasure, and he was always mindful of his duty as a sub to keep it permanently happy.

John didn't allow him to touch though. He ordered Rodney out of the shower and dried him, and then himself, and then ordered Rodney back into the bedroom. Rodney felt himself chafing slightly at all the orders and restrictions. It was one thing to be washed and dried as part of some enjoyable foreplay but John just seemed to be denying him any control over his own body as a rather irksome form of punishment. He did get it though – he knew this was John's way of teaching him a lesson about the way he'd been behaving over the previous few days, and that was fair enough.

John joined him in the bedroom, and reached for the specially engineered cock ring. Rodney grinned – he was still ridiculously pleased with himself for creating it, especially as he was sure John was going to get a real kick out of using it on him.

John grinned back at him, taking hold of his penis and snapping the fastening shut over it with a little clicking sound. Then he pressed the button on it and it glowed into life, encircling his cock in an intense shade of green. Rodney had designed the ring to fit his own penis and it did so snugly. It felt comfortable – he was aware of it but it didn't hurt at all. He liked the way it looked, imprisoning his cock in its glowing embrace.

"Touch yourself," John ordered.

Rodney reached down towards his cock, only for his fingers to buzz as they were repelled by the small forcefield. John's eyes glinted and he laughed out loud. "Oh man this is hot," he murmured, reaching out himself.

His fingers easily penetrated the forcefield, and he took hold of Rodney's cock and tugged on it, rubbing it to a state of full erection. Rodney moaned softly, feeling his cock grow rigid, the blood trapped by the ring. It felt much tighter now, but it wasn't more than mildly uncomfortable. "How far does the field stretch?" John asked. "Show me."

Rodney trailed his fingers down his chest towards his penis – he got to just beneath his midriff before the shield kicked in. The field extended in a wide strip around his genitals, and down to around the mid-thigh area.

"Okay – you're going to wear it all day," John told him.

Rodney snapped his head up in surprise. "All day?" he squeaked. "I mean…I thought it would be a fun toy for a sex session but…all day?"

"Yes. All day." John stood up. "Now kneel at the end of the bed. I'm going to take you from behind."

"But what about using the bathroom?" Rodney said, baulking at the thought of wearing the damn thing all day.

"You'll have to come and ask me," John told him pleasantly.

"And then you'll take it off so I can pee?" Rodney asked.

John shook his head. "Nope. Then I'll hold your cock so you can pee," he said.

Rodney groaned and threw himself down on the bed, thudding his head onto the pillow several times. "I can't believe you're doing this to me!" he wailed.

"Well if you will give your top interesting new toys to play with…" John snorted.

Rodney glared at him. "It wasn't supposed to be used like this!" he complained.

"Will it cause you any harm?" John asked.

Rodney thought about lying but then he caught the expression on John's face and sighed. "You mean apart from me losing any shred of dignity I possess? No," he said.

"Then you'll wear it all day," John told him firmly. "Now, I believe I told you to kneel on the end of the bed so I can take you. Did you want me to add a spanking to the day's 'indignities'?"

"No," Rodney muttered grumpily, getting onto his hands and knees and positioning himself for John's easy access. He felt John's hands on his bottom and he couldn't stop himself sighing and pushing back a little into John's warm embrace. He loved how much John liked touching his ass – it was such a turn on.

"Another thing," John said, still running his hands over Rodney's buttocks. "You don't get to come."

"Oh for god's sa…" Rodney began, starting to rise.

John chose that moment to pull open his buttocks and slide his hard cock into his anus, and Rodney gave a startled cry and put his hands back on the bed. He was used to John's familiar, hard length, and he loved how it felt inside him. He couldn't believe how quickly he'd gone from disliking anal sex to loving it. There were times when he literally craved the sensation of John's cock in his anus. He knew that John had a thing about being inside him, and it was a thing that Rodney had rapidly come to share. It just felt so good, so intense. There was never a time when it was less than satisfying, even if he wasn't allowed to come.

John grabbed hold of Rodney's thighs and began riding him in earnest, and Rodney threw back his head, whimpering in pleasure as John's cock hit his prostate with each inward thrust. He longed to put his hand down and pull on his own cock but, even if he had been allowed to, the cock ring wouldn't have given him access. It felt hot, knowing that only John could touch his ass and genitals, and Rodney's cock went into a little spasm, excited by the thought.

John rode him hard, taking Rodney just up to the edge but never over it, his hands firm on Rodney's hips, reminding him that he was his submissive, to be taken without mercy whenever John wanted him. Rodney found that thought a turn on too, and he was moaning with pleasure when John finally cried out his name and ejaculated deep inside him. He felt John stroking him with trembling hands for a few seconds, and then his top withdrew.

"Stay where you are," John warned him. "I don't want you to move."

Rodney did as he was told, wondering what was coming next, enjoying the anticipation. John went over to the nightstand and pulled out a butt plug from his box of tricks. Rodney frowned – John had never used anything like this on him before. It was a large butt plug too – not as big as John's thick cock, but pretty big all the same.

John slathered it in lubricant and then he went behind Rodney, and slid it into his anus. It didn't feel warm and comforting like John's cock, or fit so perfectly inside his body the way John's cock fit there – it felt hard and unyielding, and Rodney wriggled, disliking the sensation.

"You'll wear that all day," John told him. "It'll be, quite literally, a plug, keeping my come inside you."

Rodney gave a little whimper. It sounded unpleasant – but his cock was rock hard so he clearly liked the idea more than he thought.

"You can get up now," John told him, and Rodney got up, gingerly. "Let's see you walk," John said. Rodney walked across the room, trying to get used to the way the butt plug felt inside him. It felt intrusive and uncomfortable and he felt awkward walking around with it.

"I don't like it," he complained.

"Does it hurt?" John asked.

"No. I just don't like it," Rodney replied.

"I didn't like you avoiding me for days on end, and then snapping at me when I showed some concern for you," John told him. Rodney sighed. "You'll wear it all day – it'll remind you that you're collared now, and subject to my discipline," John told him. "Now come here and stop pouting."

"Oh I so don't pout," Rodney said, pouting.

John laughed out loud and pulled him into his arms. He kissed Rodney's unwilling mouth and Rodney gave in, and returned the kiss with his usual passion. He'd never yet been able to resist one of John's deep kisses. John reached down while they were kissing and pushed the end of the plug so that it wiggled inside Rodney's body, pressing in even deeper. Then he released Rodney, and stroked his sub's hair.

"When I call you on the radio I want you to stop what you're doing and come immediately to my office – understood?"

"Yes," Rodney sighed, still undecided about whether making his top the cock ring had been a good idea or a really, really bad one. "Don't let the power trip go to your head or anything," Rodney muttered as John disappeared into the bathroom to wash down.

John paused and Rodney held his breath, unsure what mood his top was in, and how well that remark had gone down.

"Oh, I fully intend to let it go to my head, Rodney," John told him silkily. "Anything else you wanted to say? Because I'm thinking a nice, hard spanking followed by you not being able to rub the sting out of your ass might feed my power-crazed tendencies right now."

Rodney swallowed hard. "Nope," he squeaked. "Nothing else to say."

"Good.Then stay there until I come and dress you."

Rodney sighed. He hated waiting around, hated not being able to do the normal things he'd usually do. John re-emerged a few minutes later, fully dressed, and he set about dressing Rodney.

He pulled Rodney's boxers up his legs and snapped the elastic enthusiastically around Rodney's waist. Rodney rolled his eyes at him – but just a little, in case that spanking was still on offer. John didn't allow Rodney to dress any part of his body – he did it all himself – admonishing Rodney to keep still throughout.

"You know, undressing people is much more fun than dressing them," Rodney commented, scowling down at his top as John tied his bootlaces.

"Is that so?" John smiled at him pleasantly. "And what makes you think I want you to have any fun today?"

Rodney opened his mouth to say something, and then closed it again. Today was going to be really, really irritating. He could tell.

John took Rodney to breakfast, where he hand fed him with his usual annoying slowness, and then he escorted Rodney to his lab, planting a kiss on his cheek when they got there.

"See you later – be good," he said, resting his hand on Rodney's bottom and pushing the butt plug even more firmly into place. Rodney gasped – the damn thing was intrusive enough as it was without John making it any worse. He wished he could go to the bathroom and take the bloody thing out, but he couldn't touch himself there so he had no choice but to live with it. A part of him also got a little thrill out of knowing that John's come was still inside him, the butt plug keeping it in place.

He walked into his lab in a foul mood, barked at every single member of his team before pouring himself a coffee, and then he remembered that John had told him he wasn't allowed to eat or drink anything and he stomped back to his work station angrily, sat down with a heavy sigh, and then received an unpleasant surprise as the butt plug made itself felt. He got to his feet with a startled yelp and Peter Grodin glanced at him.

"Everything okay, McKay?"

Rodney drew himself up to his full height, feeling the butt plug jutting even deeper inside him. "Oh yeah. Everything is just peachy," he said glumly.

He lasted an hour before needing the bathroom. He tried to ignore it but eventually he gave in and took himself off to John's office. John glanced up and smiled.

"I've been thinking about you," he said.

"I've been thinking about you too but probably in an entirely different way," Rodney said grumpily.

"Ah, ways to kill me?" John said sympathetically.

"I've counted 153 so far – all of them agonising and gory. I'm making a list," Rodney replied. "But right now - I need to pee."

John grinned, and followed him along the hallway to the bathroom. He stepped into the stall with Rodney, stood behind him, and opened Rodney's fly. Rodney stood there, feeling absolutely ridiculous. John slid his hand into Rodney's boxers, took hold of his cock, and pointed it at the pan. Now that he was able to pee, Rodney found he was completely unable to do so.

"Problem?" John wrapped one arm around Rodney's chest, and kissed his neck affectionately.

"I can't do this!" Rodney said miserably.

"Sure you can. I've seen you pee loads of times," John told him. "I've also held your cock loads of times."

"Yes, but never when I'm trying to pee!" Rodney protested.

"It's my cock, Rodney. I can touch it any time I like," John told him. "It belongs to me."

"This is torture," Rodney said, trying to concentrate. His bladder was aching but it was so hard letting go.

"I think it's an attitude thing," John murmured. "You won't be able to pee until you accept my control over your body, and you're not doing that. You're still fighting it."

"It's hard," Rodney said miserably.

"I know." John kissed his neck again. "But it's a lesson you have to learn. You didn't behave like my collared sub yesterday, Rodney. If you have any issues we can talk about it, but you have to learn you're not alone any more. You're mine now – what bothers you bothers me, and you need to learn to share that."

Rodney leaned back against his top, grateful for John's solid presence behind him. Maybe John was right. It wasn't easy for him to really let go, and explore his submissive side. He was still fighting John for control in many different ways.

He tried consciously to surrender, reminding his body that he'd accepted John's collar for a reason, and although one of those reasons had been the incredibly hot sex, he'd also yearned for the security and comfort of being a collared sub and surrendering his body to someone he loved and trusted.

Slowly, infinitely slowly, he began to pee. He had to concentrate at first but once he got into full flow it was easy enough. John waited until he was done, and shook his penis dry. Then he started stroking it.

"Oh god," Rodney moaned, feeling his cock harden.

"That's good. Get hard for me," John told him.

"Then you'll let me come?" Rodney asked hopefully.

"Nope. I just like reminding your cock who it belongs to."

"It knows!" Rodney wailed. "It really knows!"

"Mmm, well, I like having visible evidence of that," John teased, still stroking. He wasn't satisfied until he'd brought Rodney to full erection, and then they had to wait until it subsided a little so that John could tuck it back into Rodney's boxers again. It all took so long, and Rodney found himself fretting again. He wasn't used to being taken back to basics like this, and it grated on so many levels.

"I'm finding this really hard," he admitted to John.

John smiled and stroked his arm affectionately. "I know, Rodney," he said. "But remember those limits you wanted to test?"

"Yeah." Rodney sighed.

"Giving up control isn't easy – especially for someone like you."

"You're not going to let me give up on this are you?" Rodney said, and he wasn't sure if he was voicing a question or a hope.

"No." John shook his head. "Now come on – let's go back to my office so you can have some coffee. I know you must be dying from caffeine withdrawal right now."

"Oh god yes!" Rodney sighed. "Unless…this isn't just your cunning way of making me need to pee again soon is it?" he asked suspiciously. John just laughed and pulled him close for a kiss.

Rodney returned to work, fully caffeinated, a little while later. He was just getting back into his experiment when John radioed him and called him to his office again. Rodney stomped back there in high dudgeon.

"What? Is it important?" Rodney growled. "Because I AM busy you know!"

"You're always busy," John told him. "Now kneel down in front of me and give me a blow job."

"What? You called me here to give you a blow job? I was just here half an hour ago – couldn't you have asked for the blow job then?" Rodney snapped.

"No. Now get over here and start sucking," John ordered.

Rodney stomped towards him, and threw himself down in front of him, still muttering to himself. John opened his fly, and released his cock, and Rodney reached forward – to find John blocking his way. "Mouth only. Hands behind your back," John told him.

Rodney gazed up at him, in two minds about whether to turn around and walk straight back out – only he had a bloody great butt plug stuck up his ass and couldn't even pee without John's help right now so he knew that wasn't a good idea. John's hazel eyes gazed back at him, completely uncompromising.

Rodney nodded, and put his hands behind his back. Then he leaned forward and took John's hard cock in his mouth. He never failed to get aroused by any contact with John's powerful cock, and it was hardly a chore for him to give his top fantastic oral sex so he was looking forward to getting fully engrossed in the task.

John wouldn't allow him to give his normal spectacular though – he took the control away from Rodney, and held his sub's head in his hands.

"I'm in charge, Rodney. Just give it all up to me," John ordered, sliding his thumb over Rodney's cheek, encouraging him.

Rodney struggled for a moment, unable to keep the rhythm, and resenting that he wasn't able to control the event, the way he usually did when giving blowjobs.

"You can do it…just let go," John urged. His hands were firm on the side of Rodney's face, making it impossible for him to draw back, and his thrusts were deep and measured.

Finally Rodney made an effort to go with it, offering his mouth to his top for his pleasure, expecting nothing else and just surrendering the use of his lips, and it became easier then. He relaxed his mouth, and timed his breathing, and then got into it.

It actually felt like quite a turn on, giving himself up to John in this most basic way for this most basic use. He liked giving up responsibility for the event, and just allowing John to take what he wanted. He felt as if he'd switched off, and was flying, bobbing away happily in a little bubble of contentment.

It was just him and John's cock, sliding in and out of his open mouth, and he always enjoyed having John in his mouth. Unlike when he was delivering one of his usual spectaculars, he didn't have to think about how he could bring John to orgasm, or find new ways to excite him – all he had to do was relax, and surrender.

He came to a few minutes later to find that John was shuddering, and his come was erupting down Rodney's throat in warm spurts. Rodney swallowed it down happily, still lost in a haze.

John stroked his hair for awhile as he recovered, and then he lifted Rodney's face, and kissed him hard on the mouth.

"That was good," he said. Rodney gazed up at him dreamily.

"Mmm," he replied. He felt that warm energy begin to flow between them again and he liked the way it felt. He hadn't realised he'd been missing it. His few days of truculence had interrupted the flow which seemed to thrive on them being close, skin on skin, and on the exchange of power between them during sex.

"Back to work. I'll call you for lunch," John said as Rodney got to his feet. "Oh, and before you go…."

He reached out and swung Rodney over the table, slid his hand down the back of Rodney's pants and took hold of the butt plug. He pumped it in and out, slowly, fucking Rodney with it, back and forth, before pushing it back into place and removing his hand from Rodney's pants.

"Good boy," he murmured, pulling Rodney in for another kiss before releasing him back to the lab.

Rodney returned to work with a pleasantly warm sensation in his anus. John was right, he thought to himself as he walked. All he could think about, all day long, was his need to pee, or the sweet ache in his anus from the plug, or pleasuring John. And all the while he was aware of John's come, still trapped inside his own body, marking him in its own territorial way as his top's possession and plaything. It brought him back to himself, reminding him vividly of the collar he wore around his neck.

Rodney started to hum to himself. His top was exerting a considerable amount of dominance and there was something about that which made him feel safe. He wasn't sure why – he'd never gone this far in any previous relationship – and while it had chafed - certainly to begin with - he was starting to see that there was something completely sublime about it too.


	18. Synergy

John had another surprise in store for him at lunch.

"You want me to kneel?" Rodney said the words slowly, glaring at his top.

"I do, yes," John replied, with that pleasant smile of his that Rodney was coming to hate.

"On the floor?" Rodney queried.

"Yes. Beside me." John nodded.

"People will be able to see," Rodney hissed from between clenched teeth.

"Yes they will." John shrugged. "What's the problem? Miko always makes her subs kneel when she's feeding them."

"Well that's Miko! She's not called the Dragon Lady for nothing!" Rodney protested.

"Plenty of other tops do it too," John said, waving his hand around the room.

In fact, there weren't any kneeling subs currently in the room. It wasn't unusual for a top to require their submissive to kneel while being fed, but it wasn't all that commonplace, either. Nobody would raise an eyebrow though – it was perfectly acceptable behaviour.

"Now, I want you to go and get the food, bring it back here, put it in front of me, and then kneel down beside me – and all without talking. You're in deep submission and forbidden to talk to anyone except me during this meal. Understood?"

Rodney just stood there, glaring at him. Nobody would usually address a sub kneeling in deep submission unless given permission by their top, but John obviously wanted Rodney to be very sure about the rules. He knew there was no real point in arguing about it – John had made it very clear what today was all about, and Rodney knew that the sooner he gave in and did what he was told, the easier it'd be. But he was Rodney McKay, and he didn't always take the easy route.

"You're enjoying this far too much you know," he growled at his top.

"And you'd enjoy it far more than you think if you'd just stop fighting it," John replied.

Rodney was going to argue about that but he suspected John had a point so he just turned on his heel and went to get the food. He hoped and prayed that it would be a quiet day in the mess hall, with as few people to witness his deep submission as possible, but it was not to be. By the time he brought the big plate of food back to his top the room was heaving with people.

Rodney took a deep breath, and decided to do as John had advised, and stop fighting it. He put the plate down in front of his top, and then knelt down beside him without saying a word. John put a hand on Rodney's shoulders and stroked softly, and Rodney quivered, his muscles relaxing as the caress eased some of the tension he always carried in his shoulders and neck.

"My beautiful sub," John murmured, and Rodney looked up, startled by the praise.

John smiled at him, and pressed a forkful of food to his lips. Rodney took it and chewed slowly, gazing into space.

Teyla and Ford joined them. Teyla spared him only a fond glance before turning to talk to John. Rodney braced himself for Ford's response but was surprised to see a look of envy in the lieutenant's eyes, followed by a flash of longing as he cast a sideways glance at Teyla. Rodney realised how much Ford would love to be kneeling by her side right now, being hand fed, and he relaxed even more. John was right. When he stopped fighting it he felt so much happier.

Nobody placed him in a difficult position by speaking to him, and it actually felt relaxing not to be trying to eat and talk at the same time which was his normal mealtime pattern. In fact, it was relaxing not to talk at all. Usually he talked more than anyone else, and it felt like a respite to be ordered not to.

He found himself leaning against John's knee, and nuzzling at John's hand when it came down to stroke his hair and the side of his face, which it often did. He was so lost in the moment he barely registered anyone's reactions to him, but when he looked up to take another mouthful of food, he caught the slightly stunned expression on Ford's face. Clearly nobody expected even a top as strong and experienced as Colonel Sheppard to be able to publicly keep a sub as outspoken and difficult as himself in a state of deep submission.

For the first time, Rodney realised that he'd been given a gift. It was just one day, but John was giving him a chance to let go, and de-stress. He could spend an entire day in the submissive headspace and just enjoy the experience, without worrying about anything else.

Carson arrived a few minutes later, and Rodney thought he should probably be embarrassed that Carson, of all people, was witnessing his submission but he wasn't. And Carson just rocked back on his heels, and smiled at him fondly.

"Ah, that's a sight for sore eyes," he said, sitting down at the table beside John. "It's lovely seeing him so happy," he said to John.

Rodney barely noticed the comment. He was lost in a little world of his own, and it was an extremely nice place to be. He was actually sorry when the meal was over – it had been a new experience, and while he didn't want to eat every meal this way, there was something very relaxing about being given permission to opt out from all social interaction and just listen.

He found he had become much more attuned to John's movements, noticing every rise and fall of John's hand as he fed them both, eagerly anticipating every stroke and caress his top bestowed upon him, and acutely aware of the warmth of John's thigh against his arm. When they finished the meal, John reached down, took hold of Rodney's face between his hands, and kissed him softly and tenderly on the lips.

"Thank you, Rodney," he said quietly.

Rodney felt his entire body tingle from the pleasure of being praised by his top, and he pressed his lips to John's leather clad knee and kissed him there. Now he understood why Katie liked kissing Miko's shiny PVC boots so much. There was something very erotic about kissing John's leather pants – the smell was intoxicating for a start, and the fabric felt so cool and soft beneath his mouth. John stroked his hair, and then he took Rodney's hand and guided him up, and they left the mess hall together, John's hand resting on Rodney's ass as they walked.

The afternoon passed in a similar haze. Rodney went to John without demur when he needed to pee, and was equally happy to visit his top on request and take John in his mouth again.

His body was starting to unwind, and he felt looser, and more relaxed. He had no qualms about John holding his penis when he used the bathroom, and he loved it when John made him kneel in front of him and open his mouth to accept his top's hard cock. He liked having his mouth fucked, liked not being asked to do anything except offer his obedience and willing body, to allow John to do as he wished with him.

It was oddly liberating – Rodney didn't know why, but it was so good to just surrender, without question. He lived so much in his head that it felt good to not have any choices – to give his entire self to John.

By the time he returned to John's quarters, as instructed, later that evening, he was even enjoying the intrusive presence of the butt plug in his anus. It was evidence that he was John's, and he loved the thrill that knowledge gave him. He also loved knowing that he was holding a part of John inside him, and that John's come was still trapped, deep within his body.

John was waiting for him in his quarters when he arrived at seven p.m. and Rodney went straight over to the table and knelt beside his top, without saying a word. He spread his knees, lowered his head, and just knelt there, totally submissive. John didn't say a word for several minutes, but Rodney didn't look up. When John wanted to speak to him he would. All Rodney had to do was wait, and obey his top's will.

"Very good," John purred at last, and his fingers swept the side of Rodney's face affectionately. "Now, we're going to go one step further. I think you're ready for it." Rodney looked up, gazing at John happily. He trusted his top, and if John wanted to take him a step further then he was happy to take it.

John picked up a strip of black fabric from the table. "Close your eyes," he ordered.

Rodney did as he was told, and John wrapped the blindfold around his face and tied it at the back.

"Comfortable?" John asked.

"Yes," Rodney nodded.

"See anything?"

"No." Rodney shook his head. He didn't wonder what was coming next – he was so lost in his own subspace that he had surrendered all control. John was in charge, and John would do whatever he wanted, and Rodney was totally fine with that.

"I'm going to feed you – I brought some dinner from the mess hall," John said.

Rodney nodded, memories of the tranquillity of lunch still fresh in his mind. He opened his mouth obediently whenever John touched the fork to his lips, and took whatever John placed on his tongue.

At first it felt strange, and it wasn't easy for him to identify what he was being fed. Then he stopped trying – he just chewed, savouring each bite, and then swallowed. It was remarkable how much more he tasted his food being fed this way. He didn't always know what he was eating, but he learned to appreciate textures and flavours so much more intensely by not being able to see his food.

He didn't like everything John put in his mouth but he didn't spit anything out. If John wanted him to eat it then he would, whether he liked it or not. John knew exactly the kinds of foods he liked and disliked, so if he was giving Rodney something he didn't like then it was on purpose and Rodney had no choice in the matter. He was surrendering to his top's will, and he felt completely serene, and nothing, certainly not a mouthful of food, was going to jolt him out of that headspace.

When they'd finished eating, John helped him to his feet and then undressed him. He went slowly, and Rodney was fully erect by the time he was done. He hadn't been allowed to come all day, despite the many erotic things John had done to him, and he knew that he might not be allowed to come all night, either. It didn't matter. He belonged to John. His body was John's, to feed, and play with, to dress and undress and command as he wanted, and Rodney was very happy to offer himself up to him. If John didn't want him to come then that was fine by him. John took his hand and ordered him to bend over.

"The table's in front of you. Hold it," John told him, guiding him into place.

Rodney obeyed, and he felt John take hold of the butt plug, and then it was being gently removed. His anus ached as John pulled it out, and Rodney gave a little gasp, but he didn't move.

"Good boy. You wore this all day – I'm proud of you," John said, stroking Rodney's back affectionately. He helped him to stand up, and Rodney felt John's come from that morning starting to seep out. That made his stomach do a little flip of pleasure. He loved knowing that he'd had that part of John inside his body for the entire day.

John took his hand and led him towards the bathroom, and Rodney walked with him, confidently, sure that John would guide him safely. John let go of his hand and told him to stand there, and Rodney stood still, waiting for his next order.

He heard the sound of rustling but he didn't even try and guess what was happening. He was John's. He belonged to John. He had been told to stand here and that was what he would do.

He felt John's hand on his cock, and then a little snap as the cock ring was removed. He sighed in relief, grateful not to have it digging into his erect flesh any more.

"The rules haven't changed. You still can't touch your cock or your ass," John told him, in low, soothing, firm tones. Rodney nodded serenely, perfectly happy with that.

John took his hand again, and guided him over to the tub. Rodney could feel by the warmth in the room that his top had drawn a bath. He heard John step into the tub, and then John helped him into the warm water too. The heat of the water caressing his skin felt strange when he couldn't see what he was stepping into, but he trusted John and his top guided him safely into the tub.

He heard the sound of splashing water as John sat down, and then Rodney was directed down between John's legs. Rodney sat in the warm water with a sigh, and John pulled him back so that he was resting against his top's body, his shoulders pressed against John's chest, John's mouth nuzzling at the side of his face, his arms wrapped around Rodney's body.

"This is good. This is so good," John murmured into Rodney's ear, and his fingers trailed sensuously over one of Rodney's nipples, making him sigh and lean back against his top even more. He felt as if his entire body was starting to unravel and unwind, his shoulders loosening as he melted back into his top's body.

"That's it…just let go," John whispered, his fingers soothing gentle patterns onto Rodney's skin.

The blindfold heightened Rodney's awareness of his top's touch, just as being ordered not to speak at lunch earlier in the day had made him acutely aware of John's every movement and gesture.

They relaxed for a long time, and Rodney felt as if he was floating away and John was his anchor, the only thing keeping him tethered to any kind of reality. The water was so warm and soothing, and John's body was equally comforting, his legs and arms encircling Rodney as he lay back against John's chest in the warm water.

When the water started to cool, John began washing him. He rubbed soap all over his body, moving Rodney this way and that to get better access to various parts of his body, bestowing little kisses on Rodney's damp shoulders and neck while he worked. He took his time washing Rodney's cock and balls, rolling them between his soapy fingers and making Rodney harden once more.

"I like how you're so responsive to my touch," John whispered. Rodney barely even registered the comment. He was John's – of course his body responded when John touched him. That was just the way it should be.

He knelt forward at John's order, and felt John's soapy fingers deftly slide into his anus, cleaning him there, before washing him out with water. A little part of Rodney was sad that he no longer had John's come inside his body, but it felt so warm and good to just allow his top to do what he wanted. Rodney rested his chin on the edge of the tub and relaxed even more. He felt so serene, so damn good. He didn't think his body had ever felt this relaxed.

John helped him out of the bath, and then dried him, before leading him back into the bedroom. He guided Rodney onto the bed, lying him face down, and then Rodney felt the mattress move as his top straddled him.

He smelled scented oil, and then felt John's fingers on his back, massaging the oil into his shoulders with firm strokes from his strong hands. Whatever knots were left in Rodney's back soon dissipated as John kneaded them into submission.

He took his time, and he seemed to know exactly what he was doing, his long fingers unerringly finding any sore spots and rubbing them away. Rodney started to hum again, unaware that he was even doing it, and time became a haze of John's fingers on his body, his own humming a contented backdrop to the delicious massage.

He felt John move further down, and then the oiled fingers were sliding into the cavity between his butt cheeks. He relaxed even more, opening up his legs wide, his anus loose, ready and waiting for his top's attention. John slicked it open even further with his fingers, until it was wide and welcoming, and Rodney raised his ass with each inward caress, wanting to take his top's fingers into him, and please his top any way he could.

Then the fingers withdrew, and he felt John settle down on top of him, his weight warm and loving. Rodney sighed into the pillow as John's hands landed on top of his own. John slid his fingers between Rodney's, entwining their hands, and then lifted his hips.

Rodney felt John's hard cock slide into his oiled, open anus and come to rest deep within. The entry had been the smoothest Rodney had ever experienced, like two parts of a well oiled machine coming together the way they had been designed to.

John lay there, fully inserted in Rodney's body. Rodney was so still, so serene and so attuned to John right now that he could feel the throbbing of his lover's cock inside his anus, and his own heart seemed to adjust to keep the same time. He felt as if he and John had melded together and were now the same person, living, breathing and moving as one.

John kissed the back of his neck, his fingers still entwined in Rodney's, and then he shifted his hips just a fraction, sliding out and back in with a smooth, gentle thrust. It felt exquisite. It wasn't the hurried frenzy of more urgent couplings, but the long, slow, culmination of something much more meaningful.

They had made love with their hearts, minds and bodies many times before, Rodney thought, in that hazy headspace he was currently inhabiting, but this…this was like making love with their souls. He had, quite simply, never experienced anything like it.

John moved his hips again, oh so slowly, and then slid back once more, deep into Rodney's body. It was almost non-sexual, if the act of making love could ever been called that. It went beyond sex though, for Rodney. It was the ultimate merging of sub and top, lovers moving as one, completely in step with each other.

"Mating dance," John whispered, as if reading his mind. "That's what Teyla calls it. I can see it now."

It *was* kind of like a dance – a slow, intense, exquisitely choreographed dance, both dancers knowing their steps perfectly. Rodney allowed his top to lead, surrendering his body entirely to John's control, trusting John to keep the beat.

They kept dancing for what felt like hours, their bodies moving as one, the air thick with the scent of oil. They were joined, John's cock filling his anus perfectly, belonging there, as if it had been designed to fit Rodney.

Everything had a dreamlike quality – all Rodney was aware of was a beautiful, endless motion and their two bodies rising and falling, gently and slowly. Nothing seemed real except for the sensation of John's body moving against his own. Their hands were joined, John's on top of his own, just as John's body was resting on his, and John's flesh was joined with his, his penis moving so sensuously inside him.

Time passed – he had no idea how long - and then John was whispering in his ear. "Come for me. Come now," and Rodney did. Without hesitation, without needing to touch himself. He just came on command, completely obedient to his top's orders right to the end.

John was coming too, not in a wild, urgent climax, but slow and deep. Rodney was glad to once again have John's come inside his body, where it had been all day, where it belonged.

John lay on top of him for awhile, still inside him, their hands still entwined, his head resting on Rodney's back. More time passed, and when John finally slid out of him Rodney gave a little whimper of loss. John pulled him onto his side and then settled down behind him, wrapping his arms around him the way he always did after sex.

"I love you," John murmured in his ear.

"I love you too," Rodney whispered back. He felt the blindfold being removed but he didn't open his eyes. He didn't want to be jolted out of the delicious place in his head where everything felt so peaceful. "Feels so good. Want to stay here a bit longer," he sighed.

John kissed the back of his neck. "That's fine. Stay there. I'm with you."

Rodney kissed John's arm where it was wrapped around his neck, and then he just rested there, nestled against his top.

He could feel that energy flow, the beginnings of the lifebond or whatever it was, running sweetly between them, stronger than ever. He vaguely recalled Carson telling them that it wasn't possible to cement a lifebond by accident, without meaning to, but whatever it was that they had was already pretty strong. How much stronger would a proper lifebond feel, he wondered?

"Can you feel it?" he whispered to John.

"Yeah. It's always like that after sex," John replied.

"Sometimes…sometimes I can feel it at other times. When we're not having sex," Rodney said. "Just…a hint of it."

"Does it scare you?" John asked.

"A bit. You?"

"Yeah."

Rodney felt John's muscles tighten involuntarily and he got the strangest sensation of sadness – only he wasn't feeling it himself – it seemed to be pulsing with the energy flow between them.

He turned in John's arms and opened his eyes, gazing at his top sharply. The sudden input of visual stimulation seemed to short circuit whatever he'd sensed – or maybe he'd stopped being so attuned to his top as his own senses reasserted themselves, but he knew what he'd felt.

"Your parents," he said softly, taking John's face between his hands. "You told me they were lifebonded, and that's why they both died together, but you never told me *this*."

He placed his hand on John's chest, frowning. He'd never been a particularly sensitive person – he wasn't good at reading social signals, or people's expressions, but this – this was different. This was John, and he had never been as close to anyone as he was to this man.

He closed his eyes again, concentrating on the energy flow once more, trying to block out everything but the beat of John's heart under his fingertips. He zoned back into that hazy, peaceful subspace almost immediately, and there it was. A savage grief, walled up behind strong defences, hidden behind a mask of easy-going charm that fooled almost everyone.

He had a sudden sense of John, a young man, still at college, reeling from the double tragedy that robbed him of his parents, and struggling to find a way of dealing with the pain. There were years and years of keeping people at bay, avoiding any more heartache, but through it all was that constant, aching sense of loss.

Rodney thought of his own parents, killed in a car crash when he was eighteen. He hadn't had the connection to them that John had had with his parents though. The only one he really cared about was Jeannie – and when he thought about *her*, his heart did a little flip.

"I felt that," John said. "What was that? Not your parents?"

Rodney opened his eyes again, still stunned by what this link between them was revealing.

"No. Jeannie. I was thinking about Jeannie."

"I didn't know you cared about her so much."

"She was my kid sister. I always looked out for her. I remember when my mom brought her home from the hospital – she was such a little thing, with a mop of blonde hair. I fell in love with her the minute I saw that scrunched up, red face. Of course I kind of hated her too – but that was how our family worked."

They were silent for awhile, just gazing at each other.

"What happened tonight?" Rodney asked finally.

"I don't know, but it was fantastic," John replied. "You were fantastic."

"It felt so amazing. I know I struggled with it throughout the day but by the time I got back here I was in that peaceful place in my head, and it just felt so good."

"I could feel how easy it was for you once you got there. Everything just flowed," John murmured. They leaned forward at the same time and kissed each other, a slow, mellow kiss.

"I had no idea anything like this existed," Rodney said afterwards. "I just…I used to think the magazines and books made up all that romantic crap. Sex was always good enough without them inventing new, unattainable levels to it that mere mortals couldn't reach. And then you came along and *this* happens and...."

"I'm with you on how crazy it is." John shook his head. "I had no idea about any of this, either."

"The lifebond thing freaks you out though."

"Yeah. Kind of. I hated how it robbed me of both my parents," John replied. His hazel eyes were oddly revealing – usually John's eyes gave nothing away. Now though, Rodney caught a glimpse of a whole lifetime of sadness.

"We don't have to talk about it again," Rodney said soothingly. "It's fine."

"One day I suspect we're going to have to talk about it."

"We're both total commitment-phobes, Rodney sighed. "You with your lifebond freakout and me with my moving-in-together freakout."

"Yeah," John grinned.

"It's astonishing we're together. I have no idea how that happened. The universe must have a sense of humour."

"Yeah." John looked like some kind of wounded animal – the expression in his eyes was so naked that Rodney wondered why he'd never seen it before. He doubted he'd ever be fooled by the John Sheppard mask again.

Rodney took hold of John's head between his hands again and kissed him hard, trying to chase away the lurking demons. When he'd finished kissing him, Rodney pulled John close, and held him tight. They belonged together, each protective of the other, a partnership of equals, and he was glad that John Sheppard had finally allowed him to see into his soul.

They dozed, on and off, throughout the night, but every time that Rodney woke he immediately felt the energy flowing softly, sweetly between them. He wondered whether he'd always feel it from now on, like background noise, always there, just out of sight.

When they got up the next day he couldn't believe how good he felt. His entire body felt loose and relaxed – and his shoulders hadn't been so free of tension since he'd been a kid. John seemed to feel just as good, and Rodney found that while he wasn't as attuned to his top as he had been the previous night, some of that sense of the two of them melding into one person remained.

 

When they went offworld a few days later, Rodney had a newfound confidence in himself. He and John walked in step as they went through the gate, and Rodney was aware of every move John made. He followed his top, stopped when John did, and obeyed every order almost before John gave it.

They walked for a couple of miles towards the Wraith base of operations that John wanted to check out. They went slowly, aware that they could run into the Wraith at any time. Rodney felt more at ease than he'd ever felt on missions, sure of himself in a way that he had never been before. It helped to feel John's hand occasionally on his elbow, guiding him, or the little press of his thigh against Rodney's as they walked. That gave him a sort of inner sense of calm.

Rodney noticed Teyla glancing at them occasionally, an intrigued look on her face, and when they stopped to take some readings she came to stand beside him.

"You have achieved synergy," she told him. He raised an eyebrow. "When two people move as one during the mating dance? You have experienced that. I am surprised – I was not sure it was something you would ever be able to attain. He is so closed off, and you are so restless and volatile. I did not ever think you would be able to overcome those characteristics and truly merge. You must have a very unusual degree of compatibility."

"I really have no idea what most of that means," he told her, slightly miffed at being referred to as "volatile".

"It is a good thing." She bowed her head towards him, in a sign of respect he had seen her give only to John and Elizabeth before. "I am sorry, Dr McKay. I misjudged you – not for the first time, either. I have made the mistake I always advise others against – I allowed myself to be swayed by what you say, and not what you do."

"Thank you. I think," Rodney frowned, unsure if that was an insult or not.

"You must have great depths and compassion, to have drawn him out," she said. "I did not doubt your love before, but I did think it was more a matter of sexual compatibility rather than an emotional, spiritual or mental connection. I was wrong. You are worthy of him." She bowed again and then moved away, scanning the trees for evidence of the Wraith.

Rodney stared after her, feeling perplexed. He had no idea that any of what happened between him and his top in private was evident to anyone else, and it was unsettling. On the other hand, Teyla was often coming out with weird observations, and he doubted anyone else would have noticed anything different about how he and John were interacting.

They found the Wraith base – or rather they found where it had been. In its place was a massive crater. They barely had time to register that when Teyla saw several burly, faceless wraith warriors coming towards them. The first shots rang out almost simultaneously.

"Run!" John ordered the team, pushing Rodney away, back towards the puddle jumper. "Go tell Markham to get ready for take off. I'll cover you!"

Rodney hesitated, turning back. "What about you?" he asked.

"I'll be there in a minute. Go!" John said.

Rodney nodded, and shot his lover a glance before starting to run. He trusted John to get them out of this situation, but a part of him hated leaving him behind. He knew John would tan his ass if he disobeyed and insisted on staying, and he also knew that it was one less thing for John to worry about if Rodney did as he was told, but it was still hard to run off and leave John there.

He ran as fast as he could, aware of Teyla at his side, firing behind them as she went. He guessed she was under orders to protect him, as the weakest member of the team, when they were in situations like this. They made it back to the jumper and Rodney threw himself through the door. His neck was hurting like crazy and he had no idea why. He put up a hand to touch it, wondering if he'd taken a hit, but there was no blood there.

"Markham – Colonel Sheppard said to get ready for take off," he yelled.

Markham's eyes widened, and he slammed his hands onto the console. The engines hummed into life and Rodney turned, hoping to see John right behind him. His heart sank when nobody appeared.

"Where's John? Is Ford with him?" he asked Teyla, fighting down a rising sense of panic. His neck hurt so much now that he could hardly think straight.

"I do not know," she replied grimly.

"They were right behind us!" Rodney gabbled. "I don't…oh shit!" He doubled up in pain as something stabbed into his neck, hard.

"Dr McKay? Are you injured?" She bent over him but he waved her away.

"John?" he gasped. She hit her radio immediately.

"Lieutenant Ford?" Rodney heard Ford's strangled reply, followed by a burst of static. "Lieutenant – where are you? Is Colonel Sheppard with you? Is he okay?" Teyla asked, frowning at Rodney anxiously.

"I've got him…he's…there's….Look, I'm helping him back to the jumper. We'll be there in a few minutes. Just be ready to go. We've got wraith on our tail," Ford yelled.

Rodney drew his gun and ran to the door of the puddle jumper, his legs trembling and his neck still aching, to find his way blocked by Teyla.

"I will go," she told him. "You will stay here."

He considered arguing with her but at that moment he saw them, over her shoulder. John had one arm slung around Ford, and Ford was half-dragging, half-carrying him. Rodney's heart did a flip – unsure whether to be pleased John was still alive, or worried about why he   
was unable to walk by himself.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded of nobody in particular. "Is he hurt? Why is Ford carrying him? Damnit I should never have left him behind."

Ford staggered into the puddle jumper and deposited John on the floor. Teyla slammed her hand on the door panel to close it and then turned to Markham. "Go! Now!" she ordered.

Rodney barely heard her. He flung himself down beside John and then stopped short, horrified. There was a huge, two foot long insect clamped to the side of John's neck, its sharp, spiny forelegs sunk deep into John's flesh, which was smeared with blood. Rodney rubbed the side of his own neck absently, dimly aware of why it was hurting so much, but too freaked out about John's condition to freak out about how he was experiencing it to some extent too.

"John?" He grabbed the side of his top's face to find two pain-filled hazel eyes gazing wearily back at him.

"I'm fine," John muttered.

"Oh stop being such a damn hero. You're patently not fine," Rodney bristled. The puddle jumper took off, juddering violently as it swung upwards.

"We're taking fire! Let's get some altitude!" John barked.

"I'm trying, sir!" Markham said desperately.

The ship bounced, erratically, and then picked up some speed, moving with more fluidity. Rodney turned back to John.

"Cut it off me," John growled, through gritted teeth.

Rodney hunkered down and took a good look at the creature attached to his lover's throat.

"That might not be such a good idea, sir," Ford said. "I tried shooting it off him back on the planet but it just made the pain worse," he explained to Rodney.

"I know," Rodney nodded, still examining the creature. Ford stared at him, with a puzzled look. "I felt it," Rodney said, remembering the massive spike in pain. "Look, I don't have time to explain. I don't think cutting it off you is going to work any more than shooting it off you," he told John.

"The creature just heals itself," Teyla said, looking grim.

Ford glanced at her. "You know what this is?"

"I think so. My people have stories about such creatures. It is feeding off the Colonel's strength – like the Wraith.

"You had to say that," John muttered.

"Look, we'll be back soon, John." Rodney squeezed his top's hand firmly. "Stackhouse – radio ahead as soon as we're in range and tell Dr Beckett we have a medical emergency," he yelled. "Carson will know what to do," he said to John, refusing to panic just yet.

"Yeah. Good old Carson. He always knows what to do," John mumbled, his eyes rolling back under his lids in a way that severely tested Rodney's resolve not to panic.

Teyla fished out the medical kit, looking for something to dampen the pain until they got back, but there was nothing strong enough. Rodney just crouched there, at his top's side, feeling completely useless. He gripped John's hand even tighter as his lover drifted in and out of consciousness, trying to keep John with them. Over his shoulder he could see the stargate, and he let out a sigh of relief. They'd soon be back, and then John would be okay. Carson would make him okay and everything would be alright….

The ship whooshed into the stargate, and then there was a grating sound, and an almighty bang and Rodney was thrown across the floor. He landed up on the other side of the jumper, bruised and dazed. He looked up, horrified, to see that half the ship was missing – and in its place was the event horizon, rippling and blue. It looked as if it had materialised inside the jumper.

"Oh shit," he muttered because this couldn't possibly be good.

It wasn't. Rodney swiftly figured out that the engine pods had been damaged on their escape from the planet and were unable to retract properly, leaving the ship stuck in the stargate. Stackhouse and Markham, who had been in the front of the jumper, were unreachable, demolecularised, and the back end of the ship was going nowhere.

They had less than 38 minutes to solve the problem before the stargate shut down – and they'd all die. And, just to add to the pressure, John was lying there, being eaten alive by a massive bug, with even less time than the rest of them.

All eyes turned to Rodney to save them, and he gazed back at them, panic-stricken.

"You have to find a way to close those engine pods manually," John told him, from his position on the floor, his face much paler than Rodney liked.

"Yes, close the engine pods manually," Rodney muttered, opening a panel in the side of the jumper.

They had managed to advise Atlantis of their predicament and he knew Radek was working on a simulation back there but even so – 38 minutes gave them so little time. He wanted to be by John's side, but he was the only one who could fix the mechanical problem so he listened with one ear as Ford and Teyla discussed his top's condition with Carson.

It didn't sound good. In fact it sounded as bad as their general prognosis; there were dozens of control pathways in the panel he'd opened, and he didn't have a clue which one would retract the engine pods.

Carson was telling Ford to pour water on the bug, and Elizabeth was telling him something that Radek had said to her, and his brain felt like it was about to explode.

He tried to concentrate on the circuitry, but next thing he knew a savage pain swept through him, sending him to his knees. At that exact same moment, he heard John scream in agony. Rodney knelt there, panting, as the pain subsided.

"What did you just do to him?" he asked accusingly when he got his breath back.

"Put salt on the bug," Ford replied. "Dr Beckett thinks the combination of that and the water we just poured on it caused it to react like that."

"Please don't do that again," John muttered weakly.

"Oh god, this is ridiculous!" Rodney said, his feelings of panic overwhelming him. "I can't do this. I can't concentrate on everything at the same time, and I can't save us when you keep prodding him and making him hurt so much."

"We have to get this thing off him or he'll die!" Ford snapped.

"I know that!" Rodney yelled back.

"Knock it off," John said quietly. Rodney glared at him. "There's plenty of time to solve this thing, but you've got to stop using your mouth and start using your brain, Rodney," John told him firmly, holding his gaze.

Rodney felt himself starting to calm down. John always knew how to handle him.

"Come over here," John ordered. Rodney went and knelt beside him, and John gazed at him intently. "You can do this," John told him. "You can save us, Rodney. You just need to concentrate and use that big brain of yours to get us out of this. I know you can do it." His eyes radiated complete faith in Rodney's abilities.

"I acknowledge the big brain thing," Rodney replied, causing John to give one of those wry grins of his. "But how the hell can I concentrate when I can feel that thing eating you alive?" he said, in a strangled tone, fighting down that sense of panic again. What the hell was happening to them? He'd felt John's emotions the other night but he'd never been able to experience John's physical sensations before. "I can feel that thing in your neck," he explained. "I felt it when Ford tried to shoot it off, and I felt that saltwater thing a minute ago."

"It is the link. The pre-lifebond," Teyla said. "It has grown stronger."

John gazed at Rodney steadily for a moment, and then nodded.

"Okay. You can't concentrate because you're feeling some of my pain. I hadn't realized that. I'm going to…I'm going to try and do something…."

John concentrated for a moment, and Rodney felt something snap inside, and then the pain he was feeling stopped, abruptly. It was replaced, almost immediately, by a sense of overwhelming loss. "What did you just do?" he asked, relieved not to be in pain any more but scared by how empty he felt. He bent over, clutching his belly, aching inside.

"He has closed down the link between you," Teyla told him.

"Why? Why did he do that? Will we get it back?" Rodney asked, his eyes wide and panic-stricken.

"Rodney – go to work and get us the hell out of here," John growled.

Rodney turned back just in time to see his top slide sideways, his eyes closed, his face twisted in a grimace of agony.

"John…oh shit…John?" Rodney slapped John's face lightly.

John opened his eyes, and gave him the faintest hint of a grin. "You work better under pressure anyway," he muttered, and then his eyes rolled back in his head.

"Oh god, he's lost consciousness!" Rodney panicked.

"That is because you were lending him your strength," Teyla said softly. "Now he has closed down the link, he is no longer able to fight the creature."

Rodney gazed at her, horrified. "Why did he do that?" he whispered, feeling as if he had just been broken in two. "Why did he shut down the link?"

"Because he trusts you," she told him calmly. "He trusts you to get us back safely. Now, return to your task, Dr McKay. Lieutenant Ford and I will take care of Colonel Sheppard."

She was right. And so was John. He *did* work better under pressure and there was nothing more motivating than knowing that they had less than twenty minutes to live if he didn't save them. Rodney took a deep breath and turned back to his work, his fingers spidering over the control pathways at top speed, trying to ignore the continued discussions between Ford, Teyla and Carson.

"Rodney." Teyla interrupted him a few minutes later, and he frowned, dimly aware that she didn't usually call him by his first name. "We think we might have found a way of saving Colonel Sheppard," she told him.

He nodded, eagerly, still working, and she continued. "We think we can use the defibrillators to stop his heart for long enough to trick the creature into thinking he is dead."

He frowned trying to take that on board *and* figure out how to get the engine pods retracted at the same time.

"Okay…okay…sounds good…wait a minute – you're going to kill him?" Rodney stopped what he was doing, and turned to glare at her.

"Just for a few moments," she told him swiftly.

"No…no…no." Rodney crouched down, clutching his midriff again. "You're going to kill him?" He crawled over to where John was lying, pale and lifeless, at the other end of the puddle jumper.

"It's the only way we can think of saving him," Ford told him. Rodney just sat there, gazing at his lover's prone form. The bug attached to his neck swelled a little, its wings twitching, and made a chittering sound. Rodney shuddered.

"Dr McKay?" Teyla said, and he realized they were waiting for some response from him. He gazed at them blankly.

"Uh, we need your permission, doc," Ford said. Rodney frowned, not understanding.

"Dr McKay – the colonel is unconscious so he is unable to give his permission for us to do this," Teyla said softly. "You are his next of kin."

"I am?" Rodney asked, bemused.

"It's his collar around your neck, McKay," Ford pointed out.

Rodney gazed from one to the other, his heart beating fast as he realized what they were asking. "You want my permission to kill him?" he said slowly.

"In order to save his life," Teyla reminded him.

"Supposing we can't get his heart beating again afterwards?" Rodney demanded.

"Then we'll send him through the event horizon," Ford replied. "He'll be in stasis there until you get us all back to Atlantis."

"If we cannot re-start his heart then I will take him through," Teyla said. "Leaving you and Lieutenant Ford to resolve our problem here. Do we have your permission, Rodney?"

Rodney gazed at his top's unconscious form, wishing John was awake to make this decision himself but his lover's eyes remained resolutely closed. This was his responsibility – John was his responsibility. Rodney knew it wasn't really a choice at all, but he had no idea how he'd live with himself if it didn't work, and John stayed dead.

"Okay," he said at last. He pressed a kiss to John's dark hair, and then got up and returned to the circuitry he'd been working on. "Do it," he ordered, staring straight ahead, trying not to think about anything else except getting them home.

He worked so fast that his fingers were a blur of action as he tried frantically to locate the control pathway he needed. Behind him, he heard them put the defibrillators on John's chest. He saw John's body jackknife, out of the corner of his eye, and he tried to remain focused, shutting out everything else but the problem at hand, trying not to think about the fact that the man he loved was dying just behind him.

He hated the way he felt so empty – he hadn't paid the link between them all that much attention until recently. It just was, and it felt kind of nice, but now that it was gone, he felt an acute, gut-wrenching sense of loss.

He didn't feel it when John died, and that hurt almost as much as the fear that they wouldn't be able to revive him. He heard Teyla and Ford struggle to pull the creature away from John's neck, then their frantic shooting as they killed it. Then, finally, Ford placed the defibrillators on John's chest again. Rodney struggled to breathe.

"It's not working," Ford said, as he activated the defibrillators a second time.

"Then we must take him through the event horizon." Teyla's voice, hard and urgent.

Rodney stopped what he was doing for a second, to help them pass his top's lifeless body through the wormhole, and then John was gone.

"Keep working, doc," Ford warned him grimly.

"I am." Rodney turned back to what he was doing. If he didn't get this right then they'd all be dead in less than five minutes. He worked faster than ever, making minute calculations based on the results of his handiwork, each wrong connection giving him a clue as to where to look for the right one. And then, suddenly, he found the right control pathway - the engine pods retracted, and the jumper was free.

"Done it!" Rodney proclaimed triumphantly.

"Then why aren't we moving?" Ford demanded.

"Inertia," Rodney told him, trying to think the problem through in the fifty seconds they had left. "We need to blow the hatch. That'll give us enough forward thrust to get us through the wormhole."

They both gazed at the mechanism for blowing the hatch. Whoever pulled the lever stood a very real risk of being sucked out into space once it was blown.

"I'll do it," Ford said grimly.

They locked gazes for half a second, a grudging appreciation for each other showing in their eyes. Then Rodney nodded, and threw himself through the event horizon, crossing his fingers as he went, and hoping for the best. He'd done his bit and he couldn't do any more. It was all down to Ford now.

 

~*~

 

"John?"

John blinked.

"John. You have to go back."

He wasn't sure who was speaking but he had no intention of going anywhere. It was very still here, very calm and peaceful. He could feel a huge reservoir of pain waiting for him, just beyond the periphery of his vision, and he didn't want to go back to that. He wanted to stay here.

"You can't," the voice told him firmly. He tried to focus on it. It was familiar but it had been so long since he'd heard it that he doubted it for a second.

"Dad?" he whispered. Gil leaned over him. John frowned. His father looked the same as he remembered – short blond hair, military cut, deep blue eyes. But…Gil was only a few years older than him, more his contemporary than his father, and that felt strange.

"It's good to see you, son but you can't stay here."

"Is Adam here?" John tried to turn his head but he didn't seem to have a head any more. He was just floating. It felt good.

"Here." His other father suddenly appeared, hazel eyes laughing, the way they always used to. John gazed at them happily. He felt like he was seven years old again, safe with his fathers.

"Yeah. That's a load of crap," Gil told him. "You don't belong here. You need to go back home."

Home? John remembered any number of faceless digs, military quarters and other places he'd called home over the years but none of them had been places he ever felt he belonged. This place did. He could belong here.

"I don't want to go. I want to stay here, with you," he told them.

Adam grinned. "We love you too, kid," he said. "That's why we're gonna kick your ass out of here."

"Why? I did well. I made colonel. I remembered everything you taught me," John told them. "I never left a man behind."

"You kind of did," Adam said.

"When?" John frowned.

"Right now," Gil replied.

"We like him. He's good for you," Adam said, with a mischievous smile. "He keeps you on your toes. It was about time you found someone - Gil was despairing of you."

Rodney.

Memories hurtled back, all jumbled up, but at their centre was Rodney, jaw thrust out obstinately, mouth settled in a crooked line, gazing at him with those vivid blue eyes.

Suddenly this soothing, seductive sense of peace wasn't so appealing. Gil was right – he didn't belong here. He didn't care how much pain awaited him - he didn't want to be here. He didn't want to be anywhere Rodney wasn't.

He thought he saw Gil smile, but there was no time to say goodbye – next thing he knew he was tumbling so fast it was like he was in freefall. Then all around him he could hear noise, people moving fast, and someone was holding his hand so tight it hurt.

He was lying on his back on a hard surface, and his shirt was open. He tried to reach out to pull it closed, felt cool metal on his chest and a pain that ripped through his entire body, making him jack-knife a few feet into the air.

Damnit he ached. His neck was sore, and his chest hurt, and his hand was being held in a vice-like grip.

"He's breathing…" Carson's voice. "Stay with us, John. Fight man, damnit!"

John struggled to breathe. Everything hurt so much…and where the hell was Rodney? He sought desperately for the link that he remembered – the one connecting him and his sub, the one that would bring him back to himself - but it was gone.

He'd done something to it…what had he done? Oh god…he remembered now…he remembered cutting himself off from the warm, pulsing energy that flowed between him and his submissive, remembered that severing it had hurt so much, leaving him with a terrible, aching sense of loss. And now the link was gone.

He searched around frantically for it, looking for just a thread that would lead him back to Rodney, but he couldn't see anything. Surely it wasn't lost forever? Surely he could find it again?

His fingertips scratched around blindly in the inky blackness, desperately searching, but it was so dark, and he felt so cold and empty. He wrapped his arms around himself, and howled, silently. Without the link there was no way home.

He was lost.

 

~*~


	19. Home

"Rodney." Carson gently pried Rodney's hand from where it was tightly gripped around John's. "Come on, laddie. We need to talk to you," he said softly.

"I should stay with him," Rodney replied, numbly.

He stood there, beside the infirmary bed, gazing at John's still, pale body, attached to dozens of monitors.

"He's in a coma, Rodney – and I need to speak to you. I need to find out what happened. That's the only way we can help him," Carson insisted, gently but firmly.

Rodney nodded – if it would help John then he'd do it. That was the only thing that would convince him to leave his lover right now.

Carson led him into his office and closed the door behind him.

"I hope you don't mind but I asked Teyla to sit in on this," Carson said. "She's got an understanding of the lifebond that might help us shed some light on what's happened to John."

"The lifebond? We're not lifebonded." Rodney frowned.

"I think that might be part of the problem," Teyla explained, sitting forward in her chair. "You had a natural and powerful link, Rodney, and John was forced to sever that in order to allow you to concentrate on getting us home."

"We think that when he severed the link he caused himself a devastating trauma, Rodney," Carson said softly. "There's no medical reason why he isn't waking up. His heart is fine, and there's no brain damage as far as we can see."

"This sounds like so much mumbo jumbo to me, Carson!" Rodney snapped. "Isn't there some medicine or something that you can give him to cure it?"

"No, Rodney." Carson shook his head regretfully. "It's like he's lost somewhere inside his own mind. There's no medicine that will heal that."

Rodney shook his head, frustrated by all this. He was a scientist – he understood facts and figures, had an innate grasp of the theories of physics, and the immutable laws of nature, but not all this talk of lifebonds and people getting lost inside their own minds. That made no sense to him whatsoever.

"If you had been lifebonded this would not have happened," Teyla told him softly.

"He hates the idea of lifebonding," Rodney snapped. "His parents…." He hesitated, because that information was private, and he didn't think John would like him sharing it.

"He lost one and the other died as a result of the bond. I guessed that," Teyla said. "If you had been lifebonded he would have had greater control over the bond between you and might have been able to prevent you feeling so much of his pain. He certainly would not have been able to sever a full lifebond the way he did the link. It is our belief that a lifebond cannot be severed. When one half of a bonded pair dies, the lifebond is not severed even then – the bond takes the other with him into death," Teyla said earnestly.

"Which is what happened to John's parents. Yes. I know," Rodney said impatiently. "But how the hell is this going to help us get John back?"

"If you can re-establish the link, Rodney…" Carson began.

"How? I have no idea how it got created in the first place!" Rodney protested. "It just happened."

They stared at each other glumly. Finally, Carson shook his head.

"Then we'll treat him like any other coma patient. Keep him comfortable, and talk to him. Try to get through to him that way."

Rodney turned immediately, wrenched open the door, and strode back out to John's bed.

"There is absolutely no point wasting any more time talking to the so-called medical profession," he muttered to himself. "And you," he said, reaching John's bed. "Are a malingerer. Apparently there's absolutely nothing wrong with you."

He sat down beside the bed, and took hold of John's hand again. It was freezing cold.

"Clearly you just want to get out of polishing your boots, or taking your P-90 apart, or whatever stupid military things you spend your time doing when you're not pestering me in the lab, or getting shot at by the Wraith," he grumbled.

John remained unmoving. His face had a greyish hue which didn't look at all natural. Rodney squeezed his hand hard.

"Oh for god's sake wake up," he snapped.

John's eyelids didn't so much as flicker. Rodney gazed at him blindly, through glassy eyes. He tried to concentrate, searching for some trace of the link they'd once shared. He had so often felt it, just pulsing warmly in the background, quietly connecting them. It had been there even when he'd just been going about his everyday life, barely aware of it. Sometimes he had caught little glimpses of it when he closed his eyes, or drifted off for a moment, and it had been impossible not to be aware of it when they had sex. Then it had cascaded into glorious life, and bathed them both in its sweet glow as their intimacy strengthened and nurtured it. But now all he felt was a raw numbness, like the pain of an amputated limb, and, just beyond that, an inky darkness that was so cold it made him shiver in the warm room. How the hell was he supposed to mend something this badly broken? He didn't know.

Rodney spent the next twelve hours solid by John's side, to no avail. He watched the nurses take endless readings, watched Carson change the dressing and examine the wound on his lover's neck. Watched John lying there, unmoving, dog tags resting on grey, lifeless skin.

"I do have work to do you know," he told his top. "There are experiments in the lab that Radek is probably ruining as we speak. Or at least I'm speaking. You're just wasting everyone's time by taking an extended nap."

"Rodney – you should go back to your quarters. Get some rest," Carson said, appearing in the doorway.

"I'm not leaving."

"If there's any change I'll tell you," Carson insisted.

"I said, I'm not leaving."

"Aye, you are, laddie," Carson replied. "You're worn out, Rodney and you can't spend every minute here speaking to him. Comas are unpredictable things, Rodney. He could be out for a day, or a week, or a month…or longer. He might never…." Carson bit on his lip. Rodney glared at him. "What I'm saying is that you have to get some food and sleep. You can't spend the rest of your life at his bedside."

"Fine." Rodney got up, all his muscles protesting the sudden movement. He hadn't realised just how tired he was. Carson had a point. It wasn't as if he was doing any good here anyway.

Rodney walked wearily back to his quarters and threw himself down on the bed without even turning on the light. He was so tired, but when he closed his eyes all he could see was John's pale face, lying on that infirmary pillow.

He tried to sleep but it was useless. How could he sleep without John's warmth beside him, and his reassuring weight next to him? How could he sleep without feeling John's breath on the back of his neck, and John's arm slung around his waist? How could he sleep knowing he might never again feel John's fingers on his body, making love to him so erotically, and John's magnificent hard cock moving inside his ass? How could he sleep knowing John was lying, cold and lifeless as a corpse, in the infirmary just down the hallway? How could he sleep knowing that the warm, pulsing connection between them had been severed, leaving him feeling cold and empty inside?

He got up and left his quarters without thinking twice about it. He didn't want to be here. He found himself walking along the hallway to John's quarters.

He let himself in and turned on the light. John's leather jacket was slung over the back of a chair. Rodney picked it up and wrapped his arms around it, holding it close. It felt stiff and cold without John's body warming it. He caught sight of that stupid damn book, War and Peace, sitting on the nightstand. Rodney went over to it and opened it at the bookmarked page, then snorted. "Still on page seventeen I see," he muttered.

He threw the book down, and then threw himself down on the bed, still clutching the jacket. He buried his face in John's pillow, inhaling his scent, and then burrowed under the sheets, fully dressed, trying to get warm. He still felt that coldness inside, that iciness he'd felt ever since he'd tried to concentrate on finding the link, back in the infirmary.

"Damn it, I already told you I love you," he said, to the empty room. "Wasn't that enough for you? You didn't have to go and die to *prove* anything."

He was shivering now. It was so damn cold. He wrapped the blankets around himself, his teeth chattering. He should be warming up by now. Maybe there was something wrong with the temperature control?

He got up and went to inspect the thermostatic controls on the door panel but everything looked fine. "Then why the hell am I freezing my ass off?" he asked out loud, and it was then that the realisation hit him. "I'm not," he said. "*He* is, isn't he? And if I can sense that, then the link must still be there, somewhere. If so, there's still a chance I can reach him...."

He ran back to the infirmary, and crashed into John's room. His top was lying there, looking exactly the same as he had when Rodney had left him. Carson came running out to see what was happening.

"Go away," Rodney told him.

"Rodney – what the hell are you...?"

"I said go away," Rodney replied, bundling Carson out of the door. "I'm not going to hurt him. I just want to be alone with him. Go!" Carson looked befuddled, but he nodded, and did as Rodney said.

When he'd gone, Rodney took a deep breath and surveyed John again. He remembered that the link between them had always grown stronger with physical contact. Holding hands wasn't enough though. Naked. He needed to be naked. He took off his clothes, and slid under the infirmary sheets. Then he stripped John of his infirmary gown, trying not to dislodge any of the wires from the various machines that were attached to him. When he was done, he wrapped his arms around his top, and held him close.

John felt as cold as he did but it felt good to be beside him again, skin or skin. Rodney wasn't entirely sure what to do next. He closed his eyes, and tried to focus on where the cold was coming from. "Damn it, I'm the world's worst person to go tracking down someone lost inside their own mind," he complained to nobody in particular. "Being lost in my own mind is my default state."

He traced his fingers over John's icy skin as he lay there, hoping to warm him with his own body heat. That might help. He really had no idea. He was, quite literally, in the dark on this one.

He tried to concentrate, tried to find the link between them…. Something pulsed, brokenly, and his heart gave a little flip. He reached out towards it - it was damaged but there was definitely something still there…. He just needed to nurture it, to feed it with his own strength and energy, and encourage it to grow again.

He was tired, and now that he was nestled close to John he thought he might finally be able to get some sleep. In fact, he decided, if John pulled through this then there was no way they were spending a night apart again unless it was completely unavoidable. Never, ever again. John was his and he was John's. He had to stop trying to have his cake and eat it and accept that. It was too late for doubts or second thoughts. He was already crazy in love and there was no going back.

The link pulsed again, faint, forlorn and erratic, nothing like the usual sweet, easy flow of energy he'd felt in the past. Rodney let his mind wander along it. Beyond the pulse was an icy darkness so bleak and cold that every instinct in his body told him not to go there, to turn back, but he couldn't do that. John was lost somewhere inside that frozen place, and he had to find him.

He felt as if he was walking along a dark tunnel – and then it came to an abrupt end. Beyond it the darkness was impenetrable, and there was no way to breach the gap. He could only wait here, at the end of his side of the tunnel, radiating warmth and reassurance, and hope that John would find his way to him, making the link whole again.

"Come back to me," he whispered to the cold, still form lying beside him. "Come home."

 

~*~

 

John whimpered. He was crouched down, his arms around his body, rocking back and forth, trying to keep warm. It was hard to concentrate, because he was so cold, but he was sure he'd heard something. Or maybe he'd felt something. He wasn't sure. It was hard to tell the difference in here.

Cautiously, he looked up. Was it his imagination or had the darkness lightened a little? It didn't seem so inky black as before. Yes, there was something *there*, shimmering a little in the distance. Something warm and inviting.

John struggled to get to his feet. God he ached. And his body was so cold and numb that he had to force it to unfurl and obey his commands. When he looked up again the shimmering had gone, and he could have wept with frustration. He forced himself to concentrate, and there it was again, faint and fragile. He took a tentative step towards it, and then another.

As he walked he felt his fingertips tingle, and he realised they were growing warm. He tried to walk faster, but it was still so cold, and he was so tired. The shimmering didn't fade as long as he really concentrated on it. If he allowed himself to let go, even for a second, then it disappeared, and there was only darkness again. It was hard, and it took all his energy and focus. He crept along, feeling his way, guided by that light in the distance. It was brighter now, he was sure of it.

The warmth in his fingers crept up his arms and along his chest, and all the time that shimmering light seemed to get a little closer. He felt like he was trapped at the end of a tunnel, and the light was the only thing he could see in the darkness. It was a long journey, and he was trembling with tiredness, but he walked doggedly on, never once swerving from his path towards that light, shining in the distance.

It was brighter now, and he tried to call out, to draw its attention towards him. It glowed brighter in response, pulsing, warm and sweet, calling back to him. He redoubled his efforts, running now, throwing himself towards the light.

The heat in his body seemed to spread as he got closer to the light. First his fingers, then his arms, and torso. Then it spread down thought his groin and into his legs, all the way down to his toes. And he could feel it creeping up too, up his neck towards his ears, and then enveloping his face. The light was so bright now that he could feel it, bathing him in its heat, welcoming and warming him.

Then there was a whooshing sound and the warmth was everywhere, coalescing with the bright light, which was so close now it was blinding him, and then everything exploded. Starbursts erupted around him, white and beautiful, and he had the overwhelming sensation that he was safe. He was so tired that he barely noticed he was warm again, before falling into a deep, restful sleep.

 

"No you can't," someone was saying when he woke up. "I don't care – I'm not moving. Go away. I'm telling you I can feel him again, somewhere in there, so I am not moving just so you can measure the circumference of his head or whatever useless pseudo-medical nonsense it is you want to do to him."

There was a muttered reply, just out of earshot. John ignored it. He honed in instead on the faintly irascible sound that was like music to his ears.

"See the trouble you're causing, you lazy oaf?" He felt a finger poking into his side. "I know you're in there so you can stop lounging around and get your ass moving again. I'm not spending my whole life lying around in here – naked I might add – fending off idiotic nurses who want to take your pulse every five minutes. I felt it you know – a few hours ago. That…I don't know…all those lights and fireworks going off. I can feel you now. I can't believe you're *still* not waking up for god's sake!"

With a great effort of will, John forced his eyelids open. He lay there for a moment, blinking. His body ached, and his neck was sore, but he felt warm and content. He realised that was because he was lying half on top of his sub, their bodies pressed closely together. Rodney was sitting up, slurping hot coffee from a mug, and John realised that he was using Rodney's body as a pillow, his back pressed against Rodney's chest, Rodney's arm slung around him to keep him there. It was, in typical Rodney fashion, kind of awkward and yet comfortable at one and the same time.

"I don't have to wear this collar you know," Rodney was saying to him, stroking his arm absently and affectionately with his fingertips. "If you're not interested there are plenty of other tops around who are."

"If they lay one finger on you…" John began, the words out of his mouth before he even realised that he was fully awake. Rodney's mug of coffee clattered to the floor.

"John?" His face was being held between two big hands, and two bright blue eyes were gazing at him – or maybe glaring at him. John wasn't entirely sure.

"Who are these other tops?" John said, clearing his throat. "I'm gonna kick their asses."

"Right now you couldn't kick your way out from under this sheet," Rodney said, a wide grin twisting his crooked lips.

"What happened?" John croaked, his fingers going cautiously to his neck just to check that damn bug wasn't still there.

"I saved the day – obviously – and got us home. You then proceeded to sulk inside your head for three days while I had to endure Teyla and Carson warbling on about how you were in a coma because of this lifebond-not-lifebond situation we have going on. Oh, and while we're on that subject – you and I have a new rule."

"We do?" John glanced up at his sub.

"Yes. We do. What? You thought you were the only one who could make the rules? Hah."

"And this new rule would be?" John prompted, snuggling a little closer to Rodney and wondering, absently, how long it would be before they could have sex.

"You do not ever, ever, ever…and I mean *ever*, try to sever this link thing we've got, ever again. Even if you're dying, or some other hideous Pegasus galaxy type drama is going on in our lives."

John remembered a terrifying dark coldness, and he shivered. "I think that's a rule I can agree to," he said, as Rodney took hold of him, wrapped his big arms around him, and pulled him even closer in response to his shivering.

John was too exhausted to move and he just lay there, loving the scent of Rodney's skin, and the feel of Rodney's body against his own.

"I don't understand though. I thought I severed the link," John murmured wearily.

"You did. I restored it," Rodney told him, a hint of smugness in his voice.

John frowned, and tried to concentrate. He couldn't feel the link between them but there was a fragile warmth there, hovering just out of reach, that made him think that Rodney was right. Maybe he'd feel it pulsing again when they had sex.

"You're thinking about sex aren't you?" Rodney said, kissing his hair noisily.

"Mmm. Did you get that through the link?" John asked.

"Nope. I got that from knowing you all too well," Rodney snorted. "Don't let Carson know you're thinking about sex. He'll probably say you're not allowed to even contemplate it for weeks and weeks. Maybe even months. Years."

"Yeah, but he knows I won't take any notice of that, right?" John grinned up at Rodney. He was far too weak for any kind of physical activity right now, but he still really liked thinking about it. Especially as Rodney was so completely naked.

"Yeah. He knows."

Rodney leaned down and kissed John on the lips. It felt so sweet, so good. John just lay there, allowing Rodney to kiss him, and he felt the vitality returning to him as every second passed.

"We should probably tell him you're awake," Rodney murmured between kisses.

"Not just yet. I'm sure he'll want to perform dozens of his tests once he knows, and I don't want to do anything but lie here with you right now." John felt completely relaxed, lying in Rodney's arms. It felt so good to be warm again. "How were you able to restore the link if I severed it?" John asked, frowning.

"Apparently you just shut down your end and the trauma of that sent you off somewhere within your own mind. My end was still there," Rodney said. "I think of it like connecting two pieces of wiring. Mine was still pulsing – I just had to find yours and get the two back together again so my pulse could start yours and mend the gap. Teyla probably has reams of mumbo jumbo to explain it but my explanation is easier to understand."

"As always," John agreed, because one thing Rodney was really good at was technical explanations. And truly spectacular blow jobs. And many other things besides. "Although I do seem to remember doing some of the work myself. Not that it's like you to take all the credit or anything…." He definitely remembered staggering towards a bright light. He was pretty sure they'd both helped restore the link and it hadn't *all* been Rodney's doing.

"I'm sure you helped in some minor way," Rodney said patronisingly.

John grinned to himself. It was so good to be back.

"Teyla did say that if we'd been lifebonded none of this would have happened because you wouldn't have been able to sever the link. She also said that lifebonding would give us more control over the link," Rodney said. John stiffened. "I know, I know. I told her you're not a great fan of lifebonding, and I have to say I've never been very enthusiastic myself, but, one day, I might have to insist," Rodney murmured, kissing John's hair again.

"I thought you were a commitment-phobe?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Yes, well, there's only so many times you can watch someone you love die. Once is more than enough, thank you very much. You are not, under any circumstances, to die again."

Rodney prodded his arm forcefully, making John wince.

"I'll try my best, but I'm a soldier, Rodney," John said softly. "And if there's any dying to be done we're usually first in line. If you and I were lifebonded, and I died, the city would lose both of us – and your brain is too valuable to waste."

"Well, agreed, it would be an enormous loss to the universe. However, did you ever stop to think that being lifebonded might actually *save* our lives? We could heal each other and share any injuries."

"True," John said slowly.

He still had very ambivalent feelings about lifebonding. He had spent the past eighteen or so years resenting it bitterly, and the previous few months starting to understand the appeal, but it was hard to let go of almost a lifetime's prejudice so quickly. He didn't feel like he wanted to be having this conversation right now so he threw what he knew would be a highly effective spanner into the works.

"Suppose we had kids though? I don't think it's fair on the kids of a lifebonded couple."

The spluttering took up most of the next minute. "Do I look," Rodney blustered at last, "like someone who would be good with kids?"

"I think you'd make a great dad," John said, smiling up at him cheerfully, and that ended any further conversations about lifebonding - for the time being at least. John was under no illusions that this subject wouldn't arise again, because regardless of what he wanted, or even what Rodney wanted, the universe clearly had different ideas on the subject.

"On the subject of fathers…" John smiled. "You were wrong. They do like you."

"What?" Rodney frowned, blue eyes bemused, but John didn't have time to explain because at that moment Carson stuck his head around the door, and, seeing John was conscious, called every nurse in the infirmary to come check on him. Rodney was dispatched out of his bed and then, as John had predicted, he was subjected to every known medical procedure under the sun.

 

John made a swift recovery, and within a couple of days he was clamouring to be allowed to return to his quarters. Partly he was bored, but he was also hungry to be alone with Rodney, and make love to his sub.

Despite the fact that Rodney had assured him that the link between the two of them was working again, John wanted to feel it. He was scared that he'd somehow damaged it irrevocably, and that it might not be as strong as it had been before.

He missed that warm, pulsing energy and the sense of being connected to Rodney. If he concentrated, really hard, he thought he could feel it, but he knew that he needed to make love to Rodney, to be *inside* Rodney, to stand any chance of returning it to its full strength. It had always been stronger when they were physically close, and strongest of all when they were making love.

Carson was being difficult though. John tried every trick in the book, from charming the doctor to pulling rank on him, but Carson seemed to be prepared for each and every one of them.

"I'm the doctor, you're the patient, and I say you're not ready yet," Carson told him, smiling at him sweetly as he filled in John's chart. "Now, I don't argue with you when you take me offworld do I? You're in charge there. I'm in charge here."

"I'm fine though," John growled, pacing around the small area around his bed like a caged tiger.

"Aye, well, I'll be the judge of that. And you should be getting back to bed now, laddie, before you wear out the flooring over there."

"Rodney?" John glanced at his sub, who was sitting in a chair to one side, legs up on the bed, typing vigorously into his laptop.

"Hmm?" Rodney glanced up, and then shook his head. "Oh no. No, no, no. I'm not getting involved. Carson always wins and he's like an elephant – he *never* forgets. So next time I end up in here he'll make me suffer for taking your side in oh so many nasty little ways."

"I'm really not that vindictive, Rodney," Carson said, in a wounded voice. Rodney gave him a sceptical look, and Carson was unable to suppress his grin.

"There – see. It's true!" Rodney said, pointing.

John sighed and sat back down on the bed. "How much longer?" he demanded.

"We'll see," Carson said. "If you were a normal person I'd release you now – but I know that the minute I *do* release you, you'll ignore all my advice about taking it easy and run off and do something stupid, or heroic, or both, and then I'll have to mend you all over again."

"Oh excuse me – I mended him this time!" Rodney pointed out.

"You did a fine job once he was breathing again, laddie," Carson said, smiling at him patronisingly. "But let's not forget who got his heart started. Now, Rodney – visiting hours are long since over, not that you ever take any notice of them. You should be on your way. The colonel needs rest and you're not a restful person."

John grinned at Rodney's outraged look, and grabbed his sub for a forceful goodnight kiss before sending him on his way with a slap to his ass.

He watched that ass disappear out of the door, gazing at it wistfully as it went. Damnit but he was missing that ass. He was desperate to get his hands on it again, and really play with it.

"Down boy," Carson said, rolling his eyes. "That's another reason why I'm keeping you here. You'll jump his bones the minute I let you out, and you're not quite ready for that yet, John."

"I feel ready," John complained, but Carson just grinned, and shook his head.

"Tomorrow," he said.

"Really?" John looked up eagerly.

Carson nodded. "I want to run some final tests on you tomorrow morning but if they're okay, I'll release you around lunchtime," he said.

 

John fully expected Rodney to show up at the infirmary for his release, but by the time Carson finally handed over his uniform and gave him permission to leave there was no sign of his sub.

"He probably got engrossed in something in the lab and forgot the time. You know what he's like," Carson said sympathetically as John tied up his bootlaces.

"Yeah. I know." John shrugged. It wasn't important. He'd track Rodney down somewhere in the city. He shook Carson's hand, and then pulled him into a big bear hug. "Sorry for, you know, being a crappy patient," he said.

"Och, I'm used to it. Between you and your wayward sub I'm surprised my hair hasn't turned white," Carson replied, grinning at him. "Off you go, John, and remember to take it easy…oh what am I saying? I'm just wasting my breath."

John laughed out loud and slapped Carson's arm. "I'll be fine, doc."

He walked back to his quarters, taking with him the little bunch of cards and gifts from wellwishers that he'd accumulated in the infirmary. He'd drop them off first and then go track Rodney down. He opened the door to his quarters, stepped inside, and then stopped short.

He backed out of the door just to check these were his quarters, and he hadn't somehow come to the wrong room, but no. He stepped back inside. The room was completely empty. There was nothing here – no book on the nightstand, no Johnny Cash poster on the wall, no clothes in his closet. There was a note though, in Rodney's untidy scrawl, lying on the bed.

"Come home. R."

"Idiot," John grinned.

He threw the cards and gifts down on the bed, grabbed the note and stuffed it into his pocket, and then he ran out of the door and down the hallway towards Rodney's room.

Trust Rodney. Only he could be so stubborn as to move in with John by making John move in with him.

Home. The note had said 'home'. John hadn't felt any place was home in nearly two decades but he did now. He skidded to a halt outside Rodney's quarters, then reached out and put his hand on the lock. In all the time they'd been together, Rodney had never re-programmed the door to allow John automatic entry. Which wasn't to say that John couldn't gain access if he wanted to – Atlantis opened all her doors to him upon demand – but Rodney had never made it easy for him.

This time the door opened smoothly, and he stepped inside. Rodney turned around from where he was shoving some underwear into a drawer, and straightened up, looking slightly panicked.

John paused, and gazed around the room. It was tidier than usual – although he was guessing it wouldn't stay that way.

His Johnny Cash poster was on one wall, opposite Rodney's many framed diplomas and degree certificates. His copy of War and Peace was on one nightstand, along with the framed photograph of his parents. On the other nightstand was a framed picture of Rodney's cat, an open laptop showing a bewildering table of calculations, and, more promisingly, a tube of lubricant.

"Welcome home," Rodney said quietly. John just stared. "Um…I hope this is okay? I mean, I could have moved into your quarters but frankly they aren't as nice as these and besides I'm kind of attached to this room. Also, you have less stuff than me, or maybe it just looks that way because you keep it all in drawers. I don't know. Anyway, I've put all your stuff away in the closet. You'll probably want to re-arrange it all because you're anally retentive that way. It must be something to do with how the military mind works. I have no idea why I'm even with you. I swore I'd never get involved with anyone from the military ever again but you wore me down with your sneaky charm and obsession with romantic dates on beaches and…."

"Rodney…where are my toys?" John said, interrupting him.

"Uh…well, they're under the bed. You want me to get them out?"

"Nope. I just wanted to know where my gag was because I might need to use it sometime soon," John replied.

"Oh. I see. I'm talking too much. I do that when I'm nervous. You know that. But you haven't said anything yet, and I have no idea if you're pissed with me or not, and…."

John decided to shut him up without resorting to the gag by the simple expedient of striding across the room, grabbing hold of him, pulling him close, and kissing him hard on the mouth.

Rodney melted against him, his hands going around John's waist. John kissed him hungrily, his tongue exploring Rodney's mouth, his hands wandering down to Rodney's ass and cupping it.

It felt like a lifetime since he'd last been able to do this, and he devoured Rodney as if he was a feast, needing to taste him. Rodney's lips were as soft and willing as ever, and John kissed him several times, unable to let go. It was like that first time, back on the beach, when they'd kissed each other for most of the day. It felt that intense - and that necessary.

When at last he released his sub Rodney's eyes were heavy-lidded, and glazed. John slid his thumb gently over Rodney's lips, and Rodney sucked it into his mouth. It was such a small gesture, but so intensely sexual that John instantly needed more.

He moved his hands down to Rodney's body urgently, and slid his fingertips under Rodney's shirt, feeling the enticing, intoxicating warmth radiating off Rodney's skin. The heat was also rising inside his own body, combined with a desperate need to get as close to his sub as possible, and he pushed Rodney's shirt up and trailed his mouth over Rodney's chest. He sucked on a nipple, and then worked on its twin, loving the sounds Rodney was making as he teased the sensitive nubs of flesh into points.

John drew back but only so that he could take hold of Rodney's hand, and draw him over towards the bed. He lay down and pulled Rodney on top of him. His sub came eagerly, sinking down onto him, and kissing him vigorously. John slid his hands down the back of Rodney's pants, and squeezed his buttocks. Damn but this felt good – he always loved the way Rodney's ass felt in his hands. He kissed Rodney again, just as hard and hungry, and then rolled his sub over onto his back. He straddled him, grabbed Rodney's arms, and pinned them above his head, looking down into his sub's wide blue eyes.

"I'm going to make you mine again," he whispered.

"Well, uh, regardless of the whole regrettable link-severing debacle, I should point out that I never stopped being yours," Rodney replied.

John's eyes flickered over the white gold collar that Rodney wore around his throat; the collar that bore *his* name. His cock throbbed in response.

"You need to know it and I need to feel it – every time we make love I'm making you mine again," John said, leaning in to nuzzle Rodney's jawline.

He felt the dominance surge through his veins. Beneath him was a man he loved more than he loved his own life. Beneath him was a willing sub who loved surrendering to him just as much as he loved accepting that surrender. They were like a key and a lock – they fitted together perfectly.

"I'm going to undress you," John said, feeling the urgency again. He was desperate to feel their naked bodies pressing together, and he longed to feel the link between them pulsing again.

He fumbled to undo Rodney's shirt, with shaking fingers. His sub lay there, watching him, and John wanted to do a dozen things at once. He wanted to be undressing Rodney, and kissing him, and entering him at one and the same time, and his fingers were too slow, frustrating him.

"Here." Rodney brushed his fumbling fingers away and quickly undid his shirt, and then he sat up and pulled it off to reveal his broad, pale chest. John moved to one side, and slid a hand over Rodney's shoulder blades, then planted a kiss on the back of his sub's neck.

"Now your pants," he said, shaking slightly from raw emotion. It had been days since they'd made love, and so much had happened in the meantime. He'd died and been brought back to life again, but he needed to be grounded in the reality of Rodney's body before he felt really *alive*.

Rodney quickly unfastened his pants, and he pushed them and his boxers down and shucked them off. His boots and socks followed suit, leaving him naked. John reached for him as soon as he was done, wrapping one hand around Rodney's beautiful, smooth, curving cock.

It felt so good to have Rodney's cock in his hand again, to be able to caress it, and make love to it. It was ramrod hard and John trailed his fingers delicately up and down it, making Rodney sigh.

John gazed at him, drinking in the sight of his aroused sub. He loved the way Rodney looked, his head flung back, his eyes closed, sweat beading his hairline John had a sudden flashback to the moment when he'd severed the link between them, and he felt as if he'd been slugged in the gut. He knew *why* he'd done it, but it felt almost as bad as if he'd rescinded Rodney's collar – worse maybe. He made a guttural, whimpering sound in the back of his throat, and Rodney's eyelids flashed open, his blue eyes dark with concern.

"It's okay," Rodney murmured, pulling John close and kissing him again. John wrapped his arms around his lover, and buried his face in Rodney's neck.

"I'll never rescind your collar," John babbled, knowing he wasn't making much sense. Rodney didn't tease him for that comment, he just nodded, understanding.

"I know that. And I'll never repudiate it. It's okay. C'mere…okay…okay…."

He pressed a series of little kisses to John's mouth as he spoke, his big hands caressing John's shoulders. John felt himself calming, and he held on tight to Rodney. Rodney was his anchor in the storm of his emotions, and with Rodney he felt safe. Slowly he started to feel better, and he began caressing his sub again.

"Let me see that fantastic ass. I've been dreaming about that ass for days now, and I need to see it," he whispered throatily.

Rodney nodded, and rolled over onto his stomach. John knelt beside him, drinking in the sight of his ass. It was as beautiful as he remembered it. Two perfect globes of white flesh, round and enticing.

He reached out and stroked it softly, then lowered his mouth to it and kissed the smooth skin reverently. He licked and sucked and kissed his way over every single inch of Rodney's bare bottom, lost in the joy of holding it, and caressing it.

He opened Rodney's butt cheeks and slipped his tongue into the dark crevice between them, moaning to himself as he inhaled Rodney's scent. This was where he needed to be. He enjoyed tasting that secret flesh for a long time, his tongue lapping deep inside his sub. Then he withdrew, and pressed his lips to the white fleshy buttocks again, frowning. Something was missing. Something important. Something *necessary*. The skin was too pale and bare – it needed his mark.

"Hold still for me," he growled, his lips closing on that soft, round surface. He sucked for a long time, then bit, and Rodney gave a little whimper but he didn't move until John was done. John felt a little better once Rodney was marked. He didn't know why – just that he had some need, deep inside, to place his mark upon Rodney's flesh – preferably his plump ass.

He fingered the little red mark happily, and then turned Rodney over and kissed him again, hard this time, on the lips. Rodney's body was as loose as a ragdoll, utterly compliant, and that just made John's arousal even stronger.

"You're still dressed. Can I undress you?" Rodney asked eagerly. John nodded, grateful that he didn't have to fumble with any fastenings himself when he was in such an intense emotional state.

Rodney leaned over him, and began slowly unzipping his black shirt, his blue eyes completely focussed and intent as he worked. He paused, and examined the little marks on the side of John's neck where the bug had fixed itself, his big fingers tender and careful as he touched it, as if he was handling the most delicate circuitry.

Then he moved his head and lapped at the marks gently with his tongue, sucking and kissing. John mewled, lost in his sub's attention. Rodney released his neck and began making his way down to John's pants. He opened them, and gave a little sigh of happiness as he released John's hard cock. John grinned, pleased that his body turned his sub on as much as Rodney's body turned him on.

Rodney swiftly divested him of the rest of his clothes, and John pulled him down on top of him again, *needing* to feel naked flesh on naked flesh. Their cocks rubbed together as they kissed; John could feel them pulsing as their tongues clashed wildly.

He explored Rodney's mouth thoroughly. He had missed this so much; the taste of Rodney, the feel of his cock…he couldn't hold back for much longer. His fingers dipped into the cleft between Rodney's butt cheeks, and he knew he had to take him soon, but not yet…he had to do something else first.

"Need to look at you, need to play with you…be still…be still," he whispered hoarsely, pushing Rodney down beneath him.

He roamed over Rodney's body, reacquainting himself with it, needing to touch every single familiar inch of his lover's naked skin. His hands, lips and tongue were never still as he explored every part of his sub. He could hear nothing except the sound of his own heartbeat, and the soft little moans Rodney made as he rubbed, licked and caressed him.

Rodney responded by opening up wherever John went, moving arms and legs, rolling this way and that, offering his hard cock to John's mouth, or holding open his ass cheeks for John to slip his tongue into his hole, or lube it with his fingers. John was relentless. He couldn't get enough of Rodney. He needed to devour him, caress him and become one with him once more.

He knew that his urgency was in part fuelled by his own fear; he still hadn't felt the warm pulsing of the link, and he wondered if it was too badly damaged to ever be fully restored. He tortured himself with the worry that it might never come back, that he had broken it forever.

"Hey." Rodney caught hold of his face and looked into his eyes, making him focus. "Ssh." Rodney stroked his hands down John's arms, calming him. "It's there…you can't force it. Just relax."

John nodded, taking a few deep breaths, and then he returned to what he'd been doing, but slower this time, taking his time and really savouring it.

He cupped Rodney's ass in his hands and squeezed, remembering how it had been the second thing he'd noticed about Rodney, back on McMurdo, what felt like a lifetime ago. The first thing he'd noticed, of course, had been Rodney's attitude, and that had been what he'd first fallen in love with. The ass was a close second though.

He gazed into Rodney's blue eyes, and remembered how Rodney had turned his head during that first public disciplinary, these same blue eyes resigned, dignified and heartbreakingly sad all at the same time. That look would stay with him for the rest of his life. John moved his head and kissed Rodney softly on the lips, needing to comfort him long after the event. He resolved to himself, fiercely, that Rodney would never again be exposed to that kind of punishment, no matter what he did. John would take it for him if need be, and punish Rodney in private if it was deserved, but he'd never allow the rest of the city to sit and gawp at Rodney that way again.

He moved to sit astride Rodney, and held his sub's hands above his head again, remembering that exquisite first kiss, on the seashore, a few months previously. Rodney's lips were still as sweet. He kissed them again, reliving that moment. It was so vivid that he could almost hear the waves crashing on the beach, and taste the salty air on Rodney's mouth.

He moved again, down to the neck that another top had dared to try and collar. He growled at the memory of Bates's choke chain, and then calmed himself by nuzzling at the shining metal that encased Rodney's throat. His collar. Rodney was his, and he'd fight the entire galaxy to keep him, if necessary. Bates had just been the first.

John traced the cool metal with his tongue, remembering how Rodney had knelt in front of him in the glow of the beach fire, and bent his head so sweetly to take John's collar. It still made him quiver.

He worked his way down to suck on the nipples that were always so sensitive, then moved down to the cock that was the most beautiful he'd ever seen, and took it in his mouth. He could feel the heat in his own cock as he remembered how exciting it had been to snap that cock ring around Rodney, and keep his sub in a state of total submission. How that had led to the most extraordinary sex of his life, when they had started moving as one, merging into one complete being…and then John felt it - the faint, pulsing warmth of the link, gently morphing back into life. He saw the little crooked smile curve on Rodney's lips and knew that he'd felt it too, and gave a sigh of relief.

"Oh thank god!" he whispered, kissing the smile on Rodney's mouth, all his worries and doubts disappearing. The link was still there, flowing between them, tentative and weak but definitely there.

John knew that it was time now. He knelt between Rodney's legs and gently pulled his buttocks open, then gazed into Rodney's eyes as he entered him slowly. It felt fantastic, the way it always felt being inside Rodney.

He could feel his cock pulsing in time to the sweet pulsing of the link, and when he wrapped his hand around Rodney's cock he could feel that pulsing to the same rhythm. They were whole again, connected, and John pushed forward, making love to his beloved submissive slowly, sensuously, pushing in and out in time to the undulating of the link. It was glowing now, sending warm, sweet, honeyed waves of energy back and forth between them.

John found himself moving faster, keeping time, flowing in and out of Rodney just as the link was flowing back and forth between them. Rodney's blue eyes were locked with his, sharing an intense gaze, and John felt a sense of tranquillity descend on him. He was back. The link was unbroken. All was well. He was home.

When they both came, it was a gentle release, sweet and loving. John felt himself ejaculate deep within Rodney's welcoming body, and then he felt Rodney's warm come spurting out onto his own fingers a few seconds later.

Exhausted but happy, John lowered himself shakily onto his sub's sturdy body, and lay there, resting his head on Rodney's chest, his cock still embedded in Rodney's anus. Rodney put his arms around him, wrapping him in their comforting warmth, and there they stayed, for an hour, or a day, or a lifetime, at one with each other. John closed his eyes, and dozed to the sensation of the link flowing powerfully between them, back to its former strength – maybe even stronger than ever.

Only when the sweat had cooled on their bodies, making them cold, did John finally withdraw. He immediately rolled onto his side and took Rodney in his arms. He loved holding Rodney like this, Rodney's ass pressed against his groin, Rodney's broad shoulders against his chest.

"That was incredible," he whispered. "Did you feel it? It felt so good."

"I'm glad it's back," Rodney replied softly. "I don't want it to ever go anywhere, ever again." He rested one of his hands over John's where they were clasped around his waist.

"So, what made you change your mind?" John murmured. "About the whole living together thing?"

"Losing you - obviously," Rodney replied softly, in one of those moments of blank honesty that was so completely Rodney. "You may come to regret it of course because another of my new rules is that we don't spend a night apart unless it's absolutely unavoidable."

"Sounds fine to me," John said, nuzzling his sub's neck with his mouth. "You're not bad at making up new rules."

"Well obviously. My genius is all-encompassing," Rodney sniffed. John grinned and bit his shoulder. Rodney squirmed happily in his arms. "Oh, this will amuse you. I was looking through my files today and I found my list."

"Ah - the famous list." John kissed the back of Rodney's neck. "So, that whole thing about not liking anal sex…?"

"Yeah. I'm kind of over that. You might have noticed," Rodney said, with a trademark Rodney giggle.

"God I love that sound. What did you do with it? The list?"

"I deleted it. There didn't seem much point to it any more as you're always going to do exactly what you want regardless."

"You have a problem with that?" John stroked Rodney's arm gently.

"No. I like it. In fact, I possibly like it too much. It's kind of addictive."

John smiled. He caught sight of the photo of his parents on the nightstand and gazed at it for awhile. He wasn't sure whether he believed in any kind of afterlife but that brief moment he'd shared with them when his heart had stopped beating had seemed so real. Maybe it had been the hallucination of a dying brain, but he liked to think they were out there, somewhere, watching over him. The last time he had called anyplace home had been when they were alive.

Home.

John remembered Rodney's note, and kissed the back of his sub's neck again.

He had finally come home.

 

**The End**

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**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art: Coming Home](https://archiveofourown.org/works/745495) by [Bluespirit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluespirit/pseuds/Bluespirit)
  * [John Sheppard](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047039) by [georgiesmith](https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgiesmith/pseuds/georgiesmith)




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